Travesty Of Justice
by Pippa19
Summary: Just when they thought they had gotten rid of one renegade another comes along. He makes Richelieu look very mild mannered compared to himself. He loathes the musketeers and wants rid. Treville has come to realise that Cardinal de Durand is not all he seems to be.
1. Chapter 1

**Travesty Of Justice.**

**Chapter One.**

**Paris.**

The courtroom reeked of dank, stale and grubby air, a crowd had gathered into the small chamber to heed the fate of the man on trial. A man who was supposed to show that of honour and courage, a man of trust and reliability, one who would fight to the bitter end to save that of his King and Country. The kings musketeer stood rigid to the spot, sweat beaded his pallid features, his hands tethered behind his back.

x

The woman suddenly twitched from her reverie as the gavel came down on the wooden ornate table, reverberating around the courtroom.

The crowd buzzed.

"I will ask you again Madame Jenelle."

"Is this the man who forced himself upon you? is it he who raped you? growled the midde aged judge as he screwed up his nose and squinted at the young woman, is it he who tried to murder you in cold blood?

The crowd gasped aloud in unison. A crowd of people from all walks of life, the faces showing that of heavy toll over the years, faces of rage, of sorrow, of sympathy for the woman giving evidence. The faces that averted from the judge to the woman as he spoke.

Madame Jenelle lifted her head and looked at the musketeer as he stood there, his face stared in her direction, a red guard stood either side of him, both finding the whole scenario rather amusing as smirks lit up there lived in features. She glared at him, his eyes pleading and glazed as he returned the stare. She had to speak, she had to answer, she had to declare.

The judge peered at her through his eye glass.

"Have you lost your tongue madame? he growled again.

The crowd chuckled aloud.

Madame Jenelle nodded.

"Speak girl speak!

The crowd buzzed and sneered with mockery only to be repressed by the middle aged man.

"SILENCE!

The buzz waned.

"Yes Monsieur...it be him...the musketeer...he raped me...and said if I tell...he would silence me forever."

The crowd buzzed again.

"Hang 'im!

Execute him!

Throw him to the wolves!

Castrate the bastard!

The heckles reverberated off the courtroom walls.

The gavel rapped down loudly once again.

"SILENCE!

Captain Tréville of the Musketeer Regiment walked forward enraged.

"This is a mockery...my musketeer is innocent...I demand the king will hear of this injustice."

The judge glared at the man.

"You are permitted to do as you desire Captain Tréville." roared the man. "But at the end of the day...your man is guilty and will pay for his crime."

"This woman is a liar! yelled Tréville extending his arm and pointing his finger.

"TAKE THE PRISONER AWAY! growled the judge. "He will remain in the Bastille until sentence."

The crowd buzzed again.

Captain Tréville was suddnely surrounded by red guard as he tried to get to his accused man. His eyes averted to his other three men as they stood in complete awe at what had just transpired. They knew their brother so well, he would never commit such a heinous act.

The three musketeers realised they were out numbered as more red guard surrounded them as they reached for their rapiers in vain. They each struggled with enrage to no avail. Each musketeer was held back as he struggled in vain to reach his condemned comrade.

They watched in horror as their brother was dragged and led away. His eyes glazed over in complete and utter horror.

Madame Jenelle was rapidly ushered away by court advisors, her eyes glazed with tears as she caught the eyeline of the enraged Captain Tréville.

"WHO ARE YOU WORKING FOR MADAME...WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?...THIS IS A MOCKERY!

Tréville was held back, he struggled with the red guards, his actions futile.

"WE WILL STAND RESOLUTE BROTHER! yelled one of the musketeers hoarsely as he was dragged away by red guard. "THIS IS NOT BY ANY MEANS OVER...WE WILL ENDEAVOUR TO SET YOU FREE!

xxxxxxxxxxxx

**Bastille.**

The musketeer was dragged and prodded as they ushered him along the dark and reeking passgeway, other prisoners yelled abuse and obscenites at the bedraggled accused man.

The red guard cursed him and smirked as they reached the gloomy and lonely cell were he was pushed to the dirt ridden ground disturbing two rats as they foraged for scraps of bread.

The guards roared with loud laughter as they mocked him and goaded him. He turned to them with gritted teeth and thrust towards them as they slammed the cell door behind them. The musketeer meeting the steel door with such force he fell back onto the ground with a loud groan. The guards continued their scrornful quips, leaving the broken man on the dirt ridden ground. The cries of other prisoners echoed down the passageways as they begged for food and forgivness, only to fall on deaf ears as the guards yelled and cursed back in return.

The broken musketeer sat against the stone cold wall, having nothing but a sacking covering for what warmth he could find. His hair hanging over his face as he rested his head upon his bent knees. His body shivering with the bitter cold.

xx

_She walked towards him her beautiful face was glowing as she smiled at him. Her long tresses flowed down her back and caressed her shoulders like a shawl. Why do I feel like I am flying from the ground like a bird? I feel dizzy, I can see her, she is very beautiful. Who is this woman? where are my brothers? where is this place. Her face is near to mine now..._

...the musketeer suddenly awoke with a jolt of the head, he sat upright, the only light was that of a nearly burned down torch in the passage as it emitted the dim light through the cell door slits.

He was brought back to reality as the low murmered cries echoed down the damp tunnel.

He pulled the sacking blanket tightly around his shoulders, he felt cold, he felt like he was finished, I never did this crime, who is this woman, this Madame Jenelle, how did I get into her house. He stirred as a loud screech emitted into the darkness, the screech of a woman as she begged the guards for scraps, only to be yelled at and told to shut the hell up or she would die sooner rather than later. Tears welled in his eyes as he thought of all various scenarios in his head. My brothers, I know they will make this nightmare go away.

**TBC...**

**Hello Guys,**

**Well here I am, back with another story. I do hope you all enjoy this first chapter, a bit of a mystery at not knowing as to which of the boys has been confined in the Bastille.**

**I would love to know what you all think.**

**Please enjoy.**

**Speak soon**

**Pippa xxxx**

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	2. Chapter 2

**Travesty Of Justice.**

**Chapter Two**

**Royal Palace**

**Paris.**

King Louis rose from his seat and began to pace back and forth, his features that of confusion and enrage, he suddnely paused and turned to Captain Tréville, three of his men stood side by side as their superior officer ranted hoarsley in defence of his accused musketeer.

"This is an outrage Sire...my musketeer would never commit such a heinous crime...NEVER!

Louis turned sharply and glared at his musketeer captain.

"What would you have me do Tréville...if the man was caught red handed and arrested...I am a king not a wizard. All the evidence points to one thing...your man is guilty. It has indeed manifested into an utter outrage, having one of my musketeers apprehended for rape and attempted murder".

The three musketeers exchanged glances as they heeded their dear brothers fate.

Tréville shot a glance towards his men before turning back to the king.

"In that case Sire...I beg you delay sentence, I would indeed wish for my men to investigate the allegations further."

The king reclaimed his seat and sat eyeing the musketeers one by one.

"What are you saying Tréville? he asked quirking both brows.

"I believe my musketeer has been incriminated in this heinous deed." retorted Tréville suddenly. "I also believe someone somewhere is relishing seeing a musketeer suffer for it."

Athos stirred with a sudden bow of the head making the others swap glances. The swordsman looking quite irked.

"If I may be permitted to speak your majesty." he murmered.

Louis rolled his eyes and sighed, he waved his hand in the air gesturing towards the swordsman.

"Prey do Athos...anything to get this over with."

"This is not d'Artagnan your majesty...he would never perpetrate such brutality upon anyone...let alone a woman. As captain Tréville has stated, he has been used as a scapegoat."

Aramis and Porthos exchanged glances as the swordsman spoke in his usual sonorous tones, both nodding in agreement.

Louis heeded the musketeers words, silently musing over Athos' words he turned to Tréville.

"Very well Tréville, you have four days to find out who the perpetators are, thats if there are anyone else involved in this travesty. I shall delay sentence until then. It is indeed a pity Cardinal Durand is not here, he would have known what to do, but alas he will not return until the morrow."

_And it would not surprise me if this was not his doing. _Tréville bowed his head as he thought.

"I thank you your majesty...my men will do everything to clear musketeer d'Artagnan's name."

The others bowed in unison as they turned to leave.

They all paused in their tracks as the kings tones suddenly reverberated off the ornate walls.

"You had indeed better be correct in your assumption Tréville...I will not have disrepute within my elite regiment."

Tréville turned and bowed once again.

"That stands to reason Sire...I too will not have such dishonour, that is why I will aim to prove my musketeers innocence."

Tréville walked down the passageway towards the main hall followed by his three men.

Red guards sniggered openly as the group marched past them. Coutiers and dignitaries gossiped in groups as they cast shameful eyes upon the musketeers.

Porthos clenched his teeth in rage as he caught one of the red guards eye.

"I'll put 'im though the bloody wall if he sniggers again." he seethed to the others.

"Don't rise to it mon ami." murmered Aramis "That is why they rile us so."

"We do not retaliate to any goading gentlemen...not until we find out who plotted this mockery." retorted Athos.

Tréville turned to his three men.

"We will start with the Bastille...see what d'Artagnan has to say."

The others nodded.

**Dover.**

**England.**

The towers of Dover castle loomed above the tall trees and grassy mounds of the countryside, a salty wind blew in from the sea. The royal guards patrolled back and forth along the battlements. The local farmers, natives and traders knowing full well that king Charles was in residence as the English flag buffeted on its mast above the high turrets of the castle.

Cardinal Theodore Durand was a lean individual, the mans white collar length hair matched his thinning beard. His scarlet robes swirled and brushed the ground as he walked. His features showing no emotion as his cunning mind contemplated notions and schemes. Captain Tréville had only known the cleric a matter of months, he had been declared King Louis's adviser soon after the death of Cardinal Richelieu. The musketeer captain had been enraged as he became aware of the mans behaviour, he was beginning to make Richelieu look somewhat forbearing and meek compared to himself. Just when they all thought they had rid France of contempt and revulsion another scheming scourge manifests itself.

Durand suddenly glanced towards king Charles of England as he entered the grand hall chamber, the monarch yelled out his name.

"Ahh my dear Theodore!

Durand bowed instantly.

"I believe you wish to speak with me majesty?

Charles smirked slightly.

"I am indeed most pleased with your suggestion Durand...I concur that I have three of my best soldiers recruited within the red guard regiment, they have always served me well and are most admirable when it comes to gaining such intelligence. But will Louis actually recuit my men into his regiment?

Durand snorted and cleared his throat.

"When it comes to red guard recuitment majesty, I indeed have the last word, I will personally make certain they are drafted swiftly."

"I do hope you are right Durand, the more intelligence my men receive the better, I trust you will endeavour to make certain they are within hearing distance to Louis when on duty in the palace. I wish to know everything that passes my brother-in-laws lips. I am relying on you cardinal, I do hope he does not intervene into your plans."

"I can change the kings mind like the wind changes direction majesty, he believes I am in talks with you about certain matters of trade. But I will indeed do my upmost to have your most impeccable soldiers placed at strategic points within the royal chambers as to heed the information you so desire."

Charles eyed Durand as he stifled a grin.

"That is my dear brother-in law you speak of Cardinal, you should choose your words wisely."

Durand knew instantly he had forgotten himself, his face manisested a scarlet hue.

"I beg your forgivness majesty...I speak of my king in jest."

Charles smirked.

"Speak as you find Durand, I am simply jesting with you man...I have never liked my dear brother-in law, but we cannot pick our family members like we can our dear friends."

Durand bowed his head.

"Certainly Sire."

The king eyed him, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"I will be indeed most elated if you do implement such a task Durand, I need to gain such intelligence in order to be a step ahead of Louis."

Durand began to pace the ornate chamber floor.

"Leave Louis to me majesty, the man is an overgrown child, the queen endures his ways, but I see despondency within her eyes. Louis will never know of the three recuits, he is more interested in his elite guard, the musketeers."

"You do know my men speak french fluently...you would almost believe them to be of the same tongue." retorted the English monarch.

Durand snorted and smirked..

"That is splended majesty, even better to gain the intelligence you so desire."

The king suddenly frowned as he eyed the cardinal. His features in deep thinking.

"These musketeers you speak of, will they become a hindrance? I hear they are not a unit to be reckoned with."

Durand quirked both brows, the mere thought of the Louis's musketeers irked him.

"The king has a certain elite group of men, captain Tréville's inseperables they call them, they are like magpies, you see one and another appears. They have a certain ability to interfere into things, and always prove their worth, but do not fret majesty...I have plans for them...they will have more pressing matters to keep them somewhat occupied."

King Charles grinned, he turned swiftly to his servant to fill the goblets with wine. The servant swiftly did as he was asked as Charles continued to speak.

"It sounds very much to me Durand, that you indeed hold a loathing for the kings musketeers...prey tell me what have they done that makes you want such a scheme to work?

"They are the kings favourite majesty, they can do no wrong in his eyes, but Louis is about to become most disappointed with his elite guard. They were a thorn in Cardinal Richelieu's side, the musketeers tormented him until his death."

Durand suddenly bowed instantly as Queen Henrietta entered the chamber, her colourful robes brushing the floor as she walked gracefully towards her husband. Her dark tresses pinned up in gold threads exposing her slender neck.

"Forgive my intrusion husband, I was unaware you had a guest." she said softly. "I heeded my dear brothers name in your converse."

"My dear, this is Cardinal Theodore de Durand from Paris, he is here to discuss trade between England and France."

Durand bowed his head once more, he took the queens hand in his and kissed her pale knuckles.

"It is an honour to meet you your majesty." murmered the cardinal. "I was speaking of trading english tea to France."

Henrietta eyed him, she smiled slightly. "Ah so my dear brother is to trade with England at long last...please Cardinal do not take me as a fool...I am well aware of my dear husbands plans."

Durand caught the kings glance and pursed his lips.

_Why would he even think of divulging such information to the queen, afterall Louis is her brother._

"Quite frankly, I believe it to be a preposterous notion, Louis is not stupid, he will imagine you are out to spy on him." retorted the queen.

Charles grinned as he took his wifes hand in his.

"My dear, Louis is family, he knows I would never be involved in such undertakings. My men are being sent to train as the musketeers do, I want the best regiment in England to thrive."

Durand quirked a brow as he realised Charles had indeed informed his wife of something quite different than what they had previously discussed.

Henrietta shook her head slightly.

"You men and your notions, it has all the means of antagonising conflict between two nations, are you quite mad?

The king waved his servants away, he watched as the two men disappeared through the doors.

"My dear you are thinking ahead of yourself, it is not by any means been agreed as of yet. We are still in discussion...and I am not spying on your dear brother."

Louis is proud of his musketeers, why would he even contemplate having cavaliers take their places? yelled Henrietta sounding enraged. "The whole idea is a mockery of Louis's court."

Charles frowned towards his wife and glanced towards Durand for answers.

"My dear...the cavaliers will not be replacing anyone...you are becoming quite fraught."

Henrietta glared towards Durand, her face full on anguish as she returned her glance to her husband.

"I do hope you are right my dear...the last thing we want is to evoke unrest."

Henrietta curtsied swiftly, she turned to Durand and bowed her head slightly.

"It was indeed pleasing to have met you Cardinal Durand. The queen turned on her heel and left the chamber, leaving the two men watching after her as she went.

"Forgive me majesty...I appear to have stirred up unrest...that was not never my intention." murmered Durand. "I was unaware her majesty knew of such matters."

Charles began to pace back and forth.

"My dear wife knows nothing Cardinal...she is over thinking...she adores her brother Louis...but as I have said...I do not...you will continue with our plan."

Durand nodded slightly as he heeded the kings words.

"Certainly majesty."

I would thrive on seeing my regiment replace the elite guard, but alas that will never be. All I desire is Louis's strategies and plans so I can be one step ahead at all times."

Durand smirked as the king ranted on.

"You shall endeavour to proceed with the undertakings swiftly. I am relying on your scheme to have the interfering musketeers forestalled." demanded Charles, disdain in his voice. "I have orderd my men to kill anyone who stands in their way."

Durand sneered and snorted as he scratched his chin.

"Like I stated prior majesty...the musketeers will not hinder your plan. I indeed have other matters to concern them with." Louis is about to become most enraged with his elite guard."

Charles clicked his fingers towards one of his yeoman, the man stirred rapidly and bowed to his king.

"Have one of my ships commissioned swiftly for the Cardinal, he shall be leaving our shores this evening, travelling back to France."

The yeoman bowed once again.

"Yes your majesty."

**oooooOOOooooo**

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Well now you all know who it is that is in The Bastille. And what is to become of him.**

**Will the boys clear d'Artagnan's name?**

**Will King Charles's men actually outwit Louis.**

**Has Durand got plans for Athos, Aramis and Porthos...I think so!**

**Speak soon**

**Pippa xxxx**

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	3. Chapter 3

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Three.**

**Bastille.**

The large looming metal doors were pushed open as Tréville and his men entered the main gates of the Bastille. They were suddenly halted in their tracks as two red guard approached from the gatehouse.

"What be your business musketeers? sneered one of the guards, a slight distorting smirk on his lips.

Porthos clenched his teeth with vexation as he glared at the two men.

"We are 'ere to speak with our comrade...so open the doors...NOW! he sneered.

The two red guard swapped amusing glances.

"You are not permitted entry musketeers...you have wasted your time...so just turn on your heels and return from whence you came."

Tréville stood forward as he took a missive from inside his doublet pocket and held it out to the two guards.

"I think you will find that we have authority from the king himself."

The taller guard took the parchment, broke the seal and read down the page, noticing the royal insignia he handed it to his comrade to check.

"So if you would be so kind gentlemen and open the doors...so we can speak with musketeer d'Artagnan." retorted Athos.

"What is there to say to him...he is a rapist and would be murderin' reprobate." smiked the guard.

Porthos glared, his fearures that of enrage as he grabbed the guard by the scruff of the neck.

"That be my friend you slander...I don't take kindly to someone spreading untruths."

Aramis and Athos grabbed at their big friend as he let go of the guards throat.

Aramis patted his friends shoulder.

"Come Porthos...they know nothing...they are mindless oafs...they heed false rumour."

"I suggest you open the doors now." growled Tréville. "I do not think Captain Chabot will take kindly to his men impeding a royal demand."

"Or the king himself for that matter." added Aramis.

The two guards glared at the musketeer captain before turning to the others.

"Open the doors! seethed the taller guard.

Aramis quirked a brow and smirked.

That was not too difficult was it? he murmered sardonically.

"Now you will show us the way to our comrades cell." demanded Athos.

The taller guard nodded to his fellow guard to follow the order.

The man picked up a lighted torch from its sconce and began to lead the musketeers down the dark and reeking passage.

Screams and cries emitted into the darkness as the musketeers meandered down the cold and dim passageway. The lighted torch casting eerie shadows as they walked.

"Sooner we get him out of this hell hole the better." murmered Athos under his breath.

The red guard turned and smiked towards the swordsman.

"The only way he will be getting out of here musketeer is in a wooden box."

Porthos had clenched his fist obliviously as he heeded the guards words.

"You'll be in a bloody box if you say another word." he growled loudly, his enraged tones reverberating off the passage walls.

Tréville glared at the guard.

"You forget yourself man...I can always inform Chabot of your behaviour towards a prisoner who has not yet been sentenced to any crime as of yet. So if I were you I would hush your mouth."

The guard shot a glaring glance at each musketeer before carrying on down the passage. Leaving Trévilles men exchanging looks of iritation.

The guard suddenly paused at the door of a cell in he unhooked a large bunch of keys from his belt and shot a glance at Tréville and his men. He turned and began to twist the key in the lock prompting a rasping sound as he turned it.

"He's probably froze to death by now." sneered the guard turning and catching Athos' glare.

"If anything should happen to him, I will personally kill you myself without hesitation." he murmered into the guards ear.

The guards smirk waned as he pushed open the dirt ridden cell door, it scraped on the cold floor as it was forced open.

"And if he don't I will! sneered Porthos.

"You can leave us be now! ordered Athos suddenly.

The guard glared.

"Don't even think of trying anything musketeers...I am only down the passage."

Aramis grinned into the mans face and patted his shoulder.

"We are musketeers...we are always on good behaviour."

The guard looked from one man to the other before turning on his heel.

Tréville grabbed a torch from its sconce and entered the dark reeking cell followed by the others.

A sudden movement could be heard as their imprisoned brother stirred.

"Captain...is that you? came his hoarse sounding voice.

d'Artagnan was crouched in the corner, he looked up slowly as the brightness of the torch filled the cell, he placed his hand over his eyes and squinted realising his brothers were also withTréville.

Aramis moved swiftly to his younger brothers side and placed the blanket he had been carrying around his shoulders.

"How you faring mon ami." asked the medic softly.

The Gascon looked broken as he met Aramis' eyes. He shivered as he pulled the blanket around himself and glanced up at the others.

Tréville crouched on his haunches and looked into the young musketeers foreboding features.

"We will get you out of here d'Artagnan...but we need to know exactly what you can remember."

Porthos had taken bread and ham from inside his doublet and handed it to his brother.

"Here...get that down yer...I bet you 'avn't eaten anythin' he growled.

d'Artagnan took the bread and ham and ate ravenously.

"I thank you for this...all I was given was what they called broth...looked like it had been eaten once already."

Aramis winced at the very thought.

Athos handed the Gascon a waterskin.

d'Artagnan caught the swordmans caring stare and nodded his thanks before taking a gulp, he paused in mid swig and forced a smile from his dishevelled features.

"Wine...thank you my friend."

Athos quirked a brow as he took his place beside the Gascon. "As the captain has already stated...we need to know what happened my friend."

"Indeed." added Aramis. "We have four days to clear your name."

The Gascon sighed loudly.

"Have you any clue's as to whom would conspire such a devious plot as to actually make me look guiltly."

The musketeers exchanged glances.

"I have my suspicions...but I need proof." replied Tréville as he stood from the ground and leaned against the door frame.

"Our dear Cardinal Durand is at the top of my list." growled Porthos. " Wouldn't put nothin' past 'im."

"Thats why we need to know everything that happened on your way to the garrison. Every detail you can." said Athos.

d'Artagnan was nodding as he swept his hair from his face. He looked at each of his brothers in turn before casting his glance at Tréville.

"From the beginning." murmered the older man.

The young musketeer leaned his arms on his bent knees and began to ponder as his mind thought back to that very morning, he took another swig of wine from the skin as began to muse.

**Flashback...**

Constance and d'Artagnan weaved their way between the market goers and traders as they meandered down the lane. Constance stopping to buys a loaf of bread, she handed the baker the coins and carried on walking.

"You are going to be late for muster if your not careful...Captain Tréville will be blaming me." smiled the young woman as she popped the bread into her basket.

d'Artagnan turned to her and stared into her beautiful face.

"Sounds like you are trying to get rid of me." he whispered into her ear.

Constance smiled.

"Of course I am not...I do not want you getting into trouble that is all."

"I know...I am teasing you." grinned the Gascon kissing her forhead softly.

Reaching up on her tiptoes Constance kissed his lips. She flicked his hair out of his eyes and smiled.

"Now go...I have chores to get on with."

d'Artagnan grinned as he returned the kiss.

"I might even see you at the palace." he murmered as he turned and began to walk away.

Constance watched after him as he turned the corner and vanished.

The Gascon walked at a rapid pace as he meandered down the street. His thoughts that of what today would bring, children ran past him as they played and laughed. The musketeer almost colliding with them as they raced around the corner.

d'Artagnan suddenly became aware of a womans voice as she pleaded to two men to leave her be. The Gascon pausing in his tracks as he wandered towards the group.

"You heard what the lady said gentlemen...leave her be!

The two men turned on the young man and glared.

"What 'as it got to do with you musketeer?

d'Artagnan looked from one to the other.

"It appears you are harassing her, I do not take kindly to men who torment women."

One of the men grinned, his yellowing rotten teeth on show.

"And what are you going to do about it musketeer?

d'Artagnan glanced from one to the other and quirked both brows.

"I will have you arrested for disorder and thrown into the garrison cells."

The woman moved swiftly between the men and d'Artagnan.

"Please monsieur...it be alright...they were askin' me for rent...I will fetch the coin, it be my own fault for not payin' on time."

d'Artagnan nodded as she spoke.

_I'm seeing two of each man, why is the ground moving beneath me, I feel like I am floating._

Darkness came...

The Gascon awoke with a start, he could hear a woman screaming. He sat up in the bed, realising he was naked he scanned the dimly lit chamber for his clothes, what was happening, where was he, what is this place. He wrapped the blanket around his body noticing his uniform strewn on the floor, he began to dress, the scream became louder as three red guard burst threw the door followed by the crying woman.

"That is him...he raped me and said he would kill me if I did tell." screeched the dispairing woman.

The three red guard stood glaring at the half dressed musketeer, sneering snorts emitted into the air.

"Well! well! well! if it isn't musketeer d'Artagnan...not so honourable now are you we musketeer."

d'Artagnan stared with sheer confusion manifesting itself on his face.

"I do not know this woman, I have no clue as how I became to be in this place gentlemen, you have got it wrong, take me to Captain Tréville, he will tell you."

The three guard sniggered and smirked.

"That old story hey musketeer, but it would seem we have caught you red handed."

d'Artagnan continued to dress swiftly as he argued his innocence.

"Look...I do not know what is going on here...I never raped or attacked any woman. You have got all this wrong."

"Well we will see about that...you are under arrest and will come with us NOW!

d'Artagnan stared at the despairing woman.

"Madame...tell them...you have it all wrong...I am not the man whom attacked you."

The woman turned away and continued to sob into her cape.

The superior guard snorted.

"So why are you half dressed in her bed chamber...kindly justify that."

The other guards sniggered aloud, prompting the Gascon to clench his teeth with anger.

"This is a mockery...I have not done anything wrong...can you not see it is a ruse."

"TAKE HIM! retorted the belligerent guard.

d'Artagnan was seized and tethered as the guards hustled him out of the chamber and down the stone steps.

"I demand I speak to Captain Tréville...NOW! seethed the Gascon.

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH MUSKETEER! growled one of the guards.

oooooooOOooooooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**I want to thank you all for the brilliant reveiws, you are all very kind with your words, thank you so much for taking the time to write them. I really apprecate your thoughts.**

**Well will Tréville and the boys clear d'Artagnan's name, or is there more devious plots to come.**

**Speak soon**

**Pippa xxxx**

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	4. Chapter 4

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Four.**

**Previously:**

d'Artagnan had told Tréville and his brothers about the morning he had left Constance and began his walk to the garrison for muster. He had found himself in a strange womans bed, and had now been arrested for rape and attempted murder. The Gascon was now confined to the Bastille awaiting sentence. Tréville and his brothers having a matter of days to find those responsible for the conspiracy against him.

oOo

**Bastille.**

"This woman Madame Jenelle...d'Artagnan, have you ever come across her before, is she known to you? asked Tréville.

The young musketeer shook his head in frustration, his face looking fraught and enraged at the question put to him.

"No...I have never seen her before in my life captain...HELL knows how I got there."

Aramis patted his younger brothers shoulder with caring assurance.

"These men you spoke to about harassing the woman...have you ever encountered them before? asked Athos.

d'Artagnan sighed as he took a swig of wine from the skin.

"Never...but the house is the end one near to Rue La Huchette. It stands the tallest in the street."

Aramis' features was that of musing thoughts as he quirked a brow and stirred.

"I know that house, it was once used as a brothel, Madame Evette Marsille was the owner."

Porthos rolled his eyes.

"Don't tell me...one of your many beguilin' encounters?

Aramis smirked at his big friend.

"Never had that pleasure mon ami...she was a one man woman who loved her husband most dearly."

"It once was?...then prey who resides there now? asked Tréville suddenly.

Aramis shot a glance to the older man and shook his head.

"That...I do not know." he replied. "I believe it may be rented lodgings."

"We should pay this house a visit captain." murmered Athos. "Ask some questions."

Tréville nodded as he thought.

"We have to start somewhere...Go now...keep me informed."

The three men nodded the order.

"We will be back brother...do not fret." reassured Aramis.

d'Artganan stood up and forced a sad smile, he moved towards his brothers and embraced them. A lump had formed in his throat.

"Thank you." he said hoarsly.

Athos had sensed his brothers anguish in his voice and squeezed the back of his neck gently. The Gascon met his brothers his eyes.

"We will clear your name mon ami...if it takes us well into the night, we will find those responsible for this mockery."

The others nodded.

Porthos clappped his younger brother on the back and winked.

"That's a pledge!

Aramis followed suit as he and the Gascon clapped hands together.

"We will be back...do not give up hope." he murmered. "Stay strong mon ami."

d'Artganan nodded, tears had welled in his eyes, he swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched his brothers disappear down the dimly lit passageway.

Tréville eyed the Gascon, he could see the despair in the young mans eyes, the sparkle had diminished, his features had manifested into that of someone older than his years. But he knew his men would do anything for each other, they were afterall akin to brothers, a family.

"You do know they will do their upmost to set you free." murmered Tréville.

d'Artagnan lifted his face up to the older man as he sat in his corner and pulled the blanket around his shoulders.

"I know...I know! he murmered.

d'Artagnan's mind wandered for a moment as he mused.

"Now I know how Athos must have felt when he was arrested for my fathers murder."

Tréville eyed the musketeer and stayed silent. He prayed silently that his three other men would indeed find some clue to whatever this scheme was becoming and why, and why d'Artagnan, but then again why not, it could have been anyone of his men. Tréville began to muse, he still had the Cardinal in his mind, the past few months since he had become First Minister had not been amiable by any means, he made it clear from the start that he did not care for the musketeers. But he had no proof, that was what they indeed needed swiftly.

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

The three musketeers meandered down the lane, prostitutes smiled as the three men walked past the brothels, their eyes wandering over each man as they went.

"Lookin' for a delightful mornin then 'andsome? smiled one of the women to Athos, her eyes wandering over his leather clad body.

Aramis and Porthos grinned at one another as they watched their friends iritated repsonse.

The swordsman paused in his tarcks as the woman stood in his path, he rolled his eyes upward and sighed.

"Mademoiselle...If you would stand aside and allow me to pass? I have more pressing matters to attend to."

The woman frowned and turned her attentions to Aramis and Porthos, the two musketeers stifling their mirth.

"Well he is not very friendly is he? she sneered as she watched the swordsman walk on with a disapproving stare.

She leered over both men promiscuously as they stood side by side.

"You two seem rather friendly...I 'ave never entertained a musketeer before."

Aramis raised his hat in his usual charming and gallant manner, he smiled into the womans face.

"You will have to excuse my friend mademoiselle...he is rather shy when it comes to the fairer sex. And we have a task we need to fulfill for a comrade, so we need to go on our way."

The woman eyed both musketeers up and down and grinned.

"You know where you can find me musketeers...thats when your not to too busy."

Aramis glanced at Porthos and grinned.

"We bid you good day mademoiselle."he said as he replaced his hat on his head.

Both musketeers smiled and carried on swiftly to catch up Athos.

The swordsman was standing in front of the tallest house as the others joined him.

"I assume this is the house." he asked without looking at his two friends.

Aramis nodded.

"Yeah...looks to me as through its some sought of residence now."

Athos scanned upward suddenly noticing a face looking down onto the street below.

"Someone is watching from above, top window." murmered the swordsman.

Aramis and Porthos discreetly observed, both noticing what seemed like an old mans features.

"We need to get in there." growled Porthos.

Athos turned to his big friend.

"You stay down here Porthos, see if anything transpires...Aramis and myself will pay a visit, see if we can speak to our watcher.

Porthos nodded as he watched his two friends walk towards the house and rap on the door.

Porthos found himself a large stone wall to lean against as he observed, he glanced up to the top window, the face still remained.

The door was opened by an elderly woman, she looked both Athos and Aramis up and down, her bonnet sat on her head, greying hair tied into plaits as they hung down her back.

"What be your business? she asked, her voice sounding more like a childs than a woman of her years.

Athos and Aramis swapped discreet glances.

"Our humble apologies madame." smiled Aramis removing his hat. "We have a friend whom lodged here a day ago, he spoke very highly of your establishment mon cher, we would be most grateful if we could take a look at your very fine rooms."

Athos side glanced his friend as he spoke. The marksman could charm the birds from the trees.

The woman stared up at the two musketeers as they towered over her tiny frame.

"So you be wantin' lodgings then? she asked.

"That I may madame." replied Aramis with a slight bow of the head.

He caught Athos slight shake of the head as he rolled his eyes.

"You had better come in then gentlemen." murmered the woman ushering the two musketeers over the threshold.

"Thank you." said Athos removing his own hat.

The aroma of stewing vegatables filled the hall as both men walked into a living chamber. A wooden staircase spiralled up into the apex of the tall roofing, landings on each floor.

Athos and Aramis caught each others glance as a silent conversation took place between the two friends.

"May I ask madame, does Madame Jenelle still reside within your lodgings? asked Athos in low tones.

Aramis was watching her response carefully as his friend asked the question.

The elderly woman frowned. "I am not aquainted with a Madame Jenelle gentlemen, I know everyone who resides here, that name does not ring any bells with me."

Athos felt suddenly down hearted as he thought of d'Artagnan's plight.

"No matter...may we take a look at your fine rooms madame? he asked.

The woman nodded.

"I will just take my stew off the flames...I will follow you up musketeers." she murmered.

Aramis and Athos exchanged glances as they began to ascend the staircase, their footfalls reverberated off the walls as they climbed in single file. They both paused on the first landing noticing fours different chambers.

Athos turned to his friend and murmered quietly.

"Didn't d'Artagnan say he was on the second floor?

Aramis who was scanning his surroundings nodded.

"Yeah...he thinks it was the second, he was dragged down the stairs when he was arrested."

Athos moved slowly towards one of the doors and turned the handle. It was locked. He watched as Aramis tried another and shook his head.

"Im going up to the top floor where we noticed the figure." said Athis suddenly.

Aramis looked at his friend and quirked both brows.

"Athos...she said she would follow us up...she's bound to wonder where you are."

Athos was half way up the stairs as he paused and looked down at the marksman.

"I'm certain you will use your charm my friend and think of something." replied the swordsman as he continued up the heights.

Aramis watched after him and shrugged his shoulders, sighing with iritation he tried another door to no avail.

Athos paused in his tracks as he reached the top floor, he noticed how the room had been built into the apex of the roof. This was the room he had seen the face watching them from below. Athos rapped softly on the door and waited for a response, he got none. He rapped once more.

A hoarse voice yelled out. "COME!

Porthos's eyes wandered up to the top of the house as he stood observing. The face had gone, whoever was up there had moved away from the window.

The large musketeer frowned to himself.

(((((((((((()))))))))))

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Sorry for the cliffy, I know you like them really.**

**Thank you for your comments, your all very kind, you all know I appreciate them.**

**Speak soon**

**Pippa xxxx**

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	5. Chapter 5

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Five.**

**Rue Las Huchette Mews**

**Paris.**

Come! continued the hoarse voice as Athos hesitated, the swordsman slowly turned the handle and entered.

The chamber was grey and dim, just the shafts of daylight lit the room enabling Athos to notice an elderly man as he sat in a chair looking out of the window, the musketeer noticed the wooden wheels that had been fixed to the chair enabling the man to turn without a struggle. His wrinkled elderly features looking up at the swordsman as he stood there.

Athos slowly scanned the rest of the chamber, the man was alone.

"I was beginning to wonder when the kings musketeers would make an apprearance." came the rough voice.

Athos felt slightly uneasy at the statement as he eyed the man.

"Why is that Monsieur." asked the perplexed swordsman.

Suddenly a voice interrupted the mans response as the elderly lady had paused in the doorway with Aramis quirking a brow behind her.

"So you have met my husband then." she murmered as she entered and placed a tray down on a table in front of the old man.

Aramis and Athos met each others glance and shrugged slightly.

The man looked up at his wife and smiled slightly.

"If you could leave us mon cher Estelle...I would indeed like to speak with the musketeers."

The elderly woman looked from one to the other.

"Looking for lodgings you say...well I do not believe you musketeers." she hissed.

"We did not mean to mislead you madame, that was never our intention." murmered Aramis placing his hat over his chest gallantly. "We are worried for a friend."

Estelle nodded as she wiped her hands on her apron.

"Then I shall leave you be gentlemen, but I ask you not to tire my husband with questions."

Aramis smiled with a slight bow of his head as she turned and left the chamber.

Athos stirred as he watched the old man begin to eat his stew.

"She fusses rather too much at times." he murmered between mouthfuls.

"Pardon me monsieur...you said you were expecting us...may I ask you why? asked the swordsman curiously.

The old man scooped up his vegatables before he placed down his spoon and looked at both musketeers.

"I take it you are here to find out what happened to one of your own." he asked.

Athos' averted his eyes to Aramis who had also met his friends bemused features.

The swordsman wandered to the window slowly and looked down onto the street below, he could see Porthos still watching the house, people coming and going about their business. He turned and eyed the elderly man carefully.

"Our comrade has been used as a pawn in someones elses misdeed. If you know something monsieur...now would be the time to tell us what that may be."

The old man grinned slightly and ate more stew before pouring out wine into a cup and swigging it back.

The two musketeers swapped glances of intrigue.

"We would indeed despair at having to arrest you monsieur...we have a short time to clear our friends name." murmered Aramis removing his hat and sitting opposite the old man.

The man looked from one musketeer to the other and drank from his cup.

"I sit up here day in day out, my legs are now useless. I see everything that goes on, those that lodge here think me an imbecile a dolt, they think because I am old and incapable that I have no eyes and ears, I know damn well what goes on in these here chambers, but they pay rent on time, and Estelle is happy with that."

Athos and Aramis swapped curious glances as the old man spoke.

The man pushed his food bowl aside and sniffed.

"You two young men will not know me, but I was once a red guard within the palace."

Athos was in awe as he pulled up a chair and sat. Both himsefl and Aramis catching each others eye.

The man continued.

"My name is Artus Bernas, I was a captain under the present kings father Henry lV...I resigned my commission when I was badly injured twenty years ago."

"So the red guard huh." commented Aramis. "You do know they hate the musketeer regiment."

Artus nodded.

"That is now...the regiment I was assigned to were men of courage and honour, the ones you men know are scoundrels and rogues."

Athos nodded slightly.

"Well I certainly will not disagree with that Monsieur Bernas." he murmered sardonically.

The swordsman leaned forward and looked into the older mans eyes.

"Can you prey tell us what you know of our comrade?

Aramis waited for the response as he watched the mans features. He looked towards the window.

"I heard loud voices...I happened to look down and seen your man having words with two men, there was a woman there with them, he suddenly collapsed into the mens arms and was carried into the house, I heeded a commotion on the stairs and the door being slammed shut."

"Did your wife happen to see any of this monsieur? asked Aramis suddenly.

Artus shook his head.

"Estelle had gone to market, she was not here."

"Do you know the two men? inquired Athos.

"Never seen them before, I have seen the woman many times she resides in one of the rooms below me, she is a whore."

"Seems she earns a good sum if she can afford your rooms." queried Aramis with a slight frown.

Artus paused as he wiped his mouth with a rag and swigged more wine. He placed his cup on the table in front of himself and eyed both musketeers.

"She has other earnings, she used to work for Cardinal Richelieu, I now believe she is working for Cardinal Durand."

Both Athos and Aramis shot each other an intriguing and surprising glance.

"How did you come by this knowledge Monsieur? asked Athos suddenly.

Artus sniffed aloud.

"There is nothing wrong with my ears young man, the floors and walls are indeed very thin. "Like I said, they think me a feeble old imbecile, I have observed red guard coming and going and handing her missives."

Athos' mind raced as he thought of his wife. He knew Aramis was thinking the same thought.

_Dear God, please not her, cannot be surlely. She would not inflict such a misdeed upon d'A rtagnan._

Athos suddenly stirred from his musing.

"This woman Monsieur Bernas...what does she look like? he asked.

The old man eyed the swordsman.

"Quite a large framed woman, golden hair, I think they call her Evette." he replied.

Athos felt the relief leave his shoulders as he caught Aramis eye. The marksman quirked a brow, both men in silent converse across the room.

"May I ask Monsieur as to which room she occupies? inquired Aramis.

The old mans wrinkled features had set into deep ridges. He swigged from his cup.

"It be directly below my room, she will not be there, she goes out early and returns at dusk."

The two musketeers stood suddenly.

"You have been most helpful Monsieur Bernas...we shall take our leave." said Athos replacing his hat onto his head.

Bernas snorted.

"Musketeers! I beg you do not involve my wife in this."

Aramis and Athos had paused in their booted tracks, they both turned to the older man.

"My middle name is discreet Monsieur, do not fret." murmered Aramis with a grin.

Athos frowned at his friend and rolled his eyes as the two musketeers left the room.

The swordsman suddenly pausing in the doorway turned to face the old man.

"I also ask you not to mention this to a sole Monsieur...not even your good wife. But we may have to return."

The old red guard nodded as he eyed the swordsman.

"You have my word gentlemen." he murmered.

Athos nodded before turning and following Aramis from the chamber.

ooOoo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Hope you are enjoying the ride so far, would love to know what you all think.**

**As the story flows, things will become indeed very tense for the boys.**

**Speak soon.**

**Pippa xxxx**

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	6. Chapter 6

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Six.**

**Rue La Huchette Mews.**

**Paris.**

Athos and Aramis made their way down the stairs pausing at the door of Madame Evette Anon.

Aramis had taken a bunch of keys from his doublet. Athos watched as the markman tried each one before finding the correct cut, both men exchanging a pleasing quirk of a brow.

Aramis pushed open the door and entered, Athos behind him.

Both musketeers scanned the chamber, the aroma of primrose scent filled the air. Gowns lay strewn across the large bed.

A large cabinet stood against the far wall, next to a torn and tattered chais lounge. A chest of drawers on either side of the bed.

Both musketeers each going through a chest each as they searched for any clue they could find to exonerate their youngest brother.

Rolled up parchments filled a drawer as Aramis pulled it open. The marksman slowly rummaging through each one and scrutinising every page as swiflty possible.

Athos tried a small cupbaord chest finding it locked, he turned to his friend

"Aramis, the keys!

The marksman taking them from his doublet and flinging the bunch over to his friend who caught the bunch.

The swordsman picked the smallest on the bunch and tried it, nothing, the next one fitted the cut as the lock sprung open.

Small missives were tied into bunches with ribbons as Athos picked one bunch up and untied the knot. His eyes widening as he noticed the seal of Cardinal Richelieu. But that was passed news, Richelieu was dead, he needed more proof. Athos tried up the missives carefully before picking up another, letters from Venell the red guard captain, _dear God what have you been up to? _

"There are letters from Richelieu and captain Venell here, it would seem she has been colluding with the red guard aswell." murmered the swordsman truning to the back of Aramis as he too went through different scrolls and missives.

Aramis suddenly turned to his friend holding up a broken sealed parchment between his fingers, he opened and read.

"Our old red guard friend Artus was right...this is from Durand's office."

Athos moved towards his friend as he began to read.

_Dearest Madame Evette Anon,_

_The soldier in question will be leaving Madame Bonacieux' residence on the morrow before eight of the clock. I am relying on your stratagy madame, His Eminence does not take kindly to thwarted tasks._

_Your Most_

_Reverend Deacon_

_Clement Arouet_

Athos took the letter from the marksman in his gloved hand and scanned the page.

"What such misfortune the cardinal did not sign it himself my friend. But let us be thankful for small mercies, we shall show this to Tréville, it may be of some use afterall." said the swordsman handing back the letter to his friend. "He is most devious as to not name d'Artagnan in the letter. But I indeed think we have a least some proof of this charade."

Aramis nodded towards the swordsman in agreement as he placed the missive into his doublet pocket before speaking.

"It seems to me, Durand has his whole de ferula office conspiring together in this, I have misgivings over the whole scenario Athos, I don't like any of it, I believe this is just the beginning of something much more sinister."

Athos eyed his friend, he knew he was on to something, Aramis was very seldom wrong when it came to his qualms. He felt a slight shiver run down his spine, indeed he could not disagree more.

"Come...lets return to the garrison." said the swordsman. He suddenly paused in his tracks as he noticed a wooden amoure, he turned to Aramis who quirked both brows and followed his friend to the ornate piece of furniture. The swordsman opened both doors towards himself, a waft of scent filled his nostrels as both musketeers stared at wigs in all various colours, fair, golden, raven.

Aramis picked up one and shot a glance at Athos.

"Madame Jenelle has dark raven hair, I remember her in the court chamber." Murmered the marksman. "I think we may have just discovered our devious victim of rape and attempted murder mon ami."

Athos was nodding slowly as his friend contemplated all scenarios.

Both men caught each others eyeline before swiflty rushing from the chamber.

oooooOOooooo

"You two took yer time." growled Porthos as the three musketeers walked swiftly back to the garrison. "Well did yer find anythin'?

"The person in the window my friend was actually a former red guard captain." murmered Athos checking his surroundings for eavesdroppers.

Porthos paused in his tracks as his mind absorbed the statement.

Aramis and Athos turned and eyed the big musketeer.

"You are jestin? right? growled Porthos.

Athos stood almost pan faced and frowned at the big man.

"Does he look like he is jesting my friend? replied Aramis stifling a grin.

The three men continued their swift strides towards the garrison.

"When you say former...'thos...has he resigned his commission?

"Indeed he has, before our time though, he is in his seventies now, he was captain when King Henry lV reigned France." replied the swordsman.

"Something else you will probably not believe mon ami." said Aramis casting a swift glance at Athos. "He is willing to help us."

Porthos looked from Aramis to Athos as they walked and weaved through the street.

"Jesus!...a red guard 'elpin' the musketeers...now I somehow think Tréville will question that."

"He said himself that the red guard of today were not honorable men, he actually called them scoundrels and rogues." commented Athos with a slight smirk.

"Do yer trust 'im though...for all we know he might be part of this bloody mockery." murmered the big man.

"There are not many I trust my friend, but he was genuine, that I could tell." answered the swordsman.

"Yes...I believed him too." added Aramis. " He sits in that room all day, his legs are beyond any medical help, he uses a chair on wheels."

Porthos furrowed his brows and nodded slightly as the three musketeers entered the garrison archway.

**Captain Tréville's Office Chamber.**

**Musketeer Garrison.**

Tréville paced back and forth as he took in the intellegence gathered by Athos and Aramis, he scanned down the page of the missive found in Madame Anon's lodgings.

"I shall show the king this missive...let us hope this is proof enough to free d'Artagnan." said the older man.

The musketeers nodded in agreement.

"These wigs you found, you really think she could be involved? queried the musketeer captain.

"We all seen this Madame Jenelle in the court with our own eyes captain, she fits the description given to Athos and Aramis." growled Porthos.

"Yes, but we only seen the back of her as she walked towards the judge." commented Aramis. "She did have raven hair."

Athos stirred in his chair.

"Your quite right my friend...was it a wig? Was she really Madame Anon in disguise."

The three musketeers sat in a semi circle as they exchanged words and thoughts of the findings.

Aramis toyed with his hat as he glanced from his friends to Tréville.

"I would say it is too much of a coinsidence Captain...it is certainly worth an investigation."

"I concur with Aramis captain." said Athos. "Something is amiss in that house, and we need to know what."

Tréville retook his seat behind his desk and poured brandy into four goblets. He handed one to each man and swigged his own back.

"This former red guard, what was his name.? he asked as he took another swig from his goblet.

"Artus Bernas, he was injured years ago and resigned his commission." replied Athos.

Tréville pondered over the name, he nodded slowly.

"The name is ringing bells in my head...If my memory serves me well, he was indeed a very honorable man. The king will not know of him though,it was before his time."

Porthos snorted slightly.

"I find it 'ard to think any red guard 'onorable."

"The red guard gentlemen, were once an elite regiment." retorted Tréville. "The kings father spoke admirably of them, before you boys were even born."

"But alas things change, sometimes for the worst." commented Athos.

"Henry must be spinnin' in his tomb." growled Porthos casting a glance at his brothers.

A loud rapping on the office door suddenly waned the discission prompting all eyes to turn to the door.

The door opened as Brujon put his head around the wooden structure.

"My apologies for the intrusion Captain, but Madame Bonacieux is adament she wishes to speak with you."

Before Tréville had time to answer the young cadet, Constance pushed her way past Brujon, her face filled with evident dispair, tears had filled her eyes as she hitched up her gown and entered the chamber.

"I have only just heard about d'Artagnan...when were you going to even tell me...dear God...why is he in the Bastille? her voice filled with enrage and anguish.

Aramis jumped to his feet swiftly and pulled out another chair.

"Please Constance...be seated...I shall fetch you some brandy."

Constance scanned each man before her eyes fell on Tréville. The older man was pouring out another brandy and had handed it to Aramis.

The marksman handed her the goblet as she remained standing.

"What is sitting around talking going to achieve? should you not be fighting to release him?

"My dear Constance...we are going to the king forthwith, we have proof he was falsely accused." retorted Tréville.

Constance slowly moved her body down to a sitting position, her gown falling around the chair legs as she sat.

"What has he been accused of may I ask." she asked suddenly.

The musketeers swapped glances as the young woman asked the question, each man not wanting to answer.

"WELL! she gasped.

Tréville had read their minds,

"Rape and attempted murder of a certain Madame Jenelle." sighed the older man.

Constance's face suddenly drained of colour as she sat staring at the musketeer captain."

"WHAT?

"NO!

ooooooOOOooooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Sorry for the late posting, have been so busy this week. Cannot believe how fast the year has gone.**

**Anyway I really hope you are still with the story and are enjoying it.**

**Thank you ver much for the comments.**

**Speak soon**

**Pippa xxx**

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	7. Chapter 7

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Seven.**

**Royal Palace.**

Shafts of sunlight shone through the large throne chamber windows catching the ornate gold picture frames that hung on the wall.

Queen Anne sat at her husbands side as Captain Tréville bowed his head and handed the missive to Louis. The king eyed the musketeer captain and stood swiftly from his chair, he opened the broken seal and scanned down the page.

Louis began to pace back and fourth, pausing now and then as he read down the page of the crumpled parchment. He suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned to Tréville and his three musketeers.

"Prey tell me Tréville how you came by this letter? he asked in low tones.

Athos and Aramis swapped discreet side glances as they stood side by side.

"Musketeer's Athos and Aramis discovered them in a Madame Anon's lodgings Sire."

Louis cast a quick glance over the three men as they stood almost statuesque, each musketeer avoiding eye contact with the monarch as they continued to stare ahead.

Anne broke the silence as she stirred in her chair.

"May I ask as to what this missive contains Louis? she asked suddenly.

Louis handed the missive to his wife almost unheedingly as he retook his seat and began to ponder the contents.

Tréville knew the letter had irked Louis, he was pale, he had become agitated. And who could blame him when his own First Minister and his entourage were scheming behind his back.

Porthos side glanced Athos and Aramis, who in turn caught a discreet glance from their captain. Each man musing over the exact curious thoughts.

"How can we be certain Deacon Arouet wrote such guile Tréville? asked the king sounding enraged.

Athos lifted his head to look at Louis in sheer bemusment.

_How can he actually ask that, what more does he want._

Before Louis could answer Anne suddenly spoke.

"Come now Louis, who else could it be? this is certainly proof that Musketeer d'Artagnan is innocent surely?

Louis glanced at his wife and took the letter from her, he read again before turning to Tréville.

"The cardinal should be with us early morn on the morrow. He will be leaving LaHarve very soon after his trading voyage to England. We shall tarry until then captain...I will personally ask him myself."

The musketeers exchanged iritating glances that did not go unnoticed by the monarch.

"You seem rather incensed musketeers...prey speak freely. Come now Athos, you always seem rather pragmatic in these matters."

Athos stood to attention suddenly as the king eyed him, he could feel all eyes on him.

The swordsman stood forward and bowed his head.

"The missive we found your majesty, why would it be in the hands of Madame Anon? It is evident that some conspiracy is occurring here, I have reason to believe it is indeed the handwriting of Deacon Arouet."

Porthos and Aramis discreetly side glanced each other.

Louis eyed Athos and nodded slightly.

"You agree with your man Tréville? asked Louis turning on the musketeer captain.

Tréville furrowed his brow as he glanced back at his three men, he turned back to the king and sighed heavily.

"I do Sire, it is most clear that there is a dissident at work here, I feel it may be unfolding to something more immense."

Louis leaned his elbow on his chair armrest and began to muse as he rested his chin on his fisted hand. Anne cast a glance towards the musketeers, it was evident in her features she was iritated by her husbands dawdling response.

"I am in accordance with the captain Louis, I do believe something sinister is going on, and whatever that may be, it seems it needs nipping in the bud. It seems to me someone wants Musketeer d'Artagnan dead, I am at a loss as to why."

The musketeers swapped glances, each man clearly agreeing with the

Queens declaration.

Louis shot a glance towards his wife before turning to Tréville.

"Do you suppose this Madame Anon is a spy Tréville? he asked.

Tréville furrowed his brows and nodded slightly.

"We have no evidence of such clandestine occurence at this point Sire, but I do believe she is working for Cardinal Durand and his entourage for reasons I have no answer. But one thing is for sure, d'Artagnan is an innocent man."

Louis lifted his head suddenly, he turned to his yeoman and ushered the man over.

The servant moved swiflty towards his king and bowed.

"Yes your majesty?

"Have Deacon Arouret summoned to my quarters forthwith! demanded the monarch.

Athos caught Trévilles eyeline and quirked a brow.

The man bowed once again.

"Certainly your majesty."

Silence fell on the chamber, just the sound of the yeomans rapid footfalls could be heard as they reverberated off the walls and the closing of the large doors behind him.

oooOooo

**Bastille.**

d'Artagnan sat against the cold stone wall, a blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders. The same blanket his brothers had given him on their visit hours before.

His features that of anguish and vexation as he stared into the dimness of the cell. Cries of mercy echoed through the damp passageways, as other confined prisoners pleaded for food and water.

The Gascon ran his fingers through his hair and sighed with frustration, he leaned his head back against the wall as his mind began to dwell on the past hours, the recurring images in his head of approaching what he thought was a unpleasant situation for a young woman, and waking in a strangers bed. He had tried with all his might to remember what had occured in that instant to no avail.

Why?

"Did someone have a belligerent and malicious gripe about him, or was it really the musketeer regiment. d'Artagnan wiped his hands over his face and exhaled with foreboding iritation. Would his brothers find out the truth.

He was suddnely interrupted as the large cell door rasped against the stone ground and opened ajar. A red guard appeared holding a pewter bowl.

d'Artagnan glanced up slowly.

"'ere get that down yer musketeer." he growled almost throwing the bowl onto the ground at the Gascons shackled feet.

d'Artagnan took the bowl and grimaced at the contents.

"I would rather starve to death than eat that sludge."he groused.

The guard snorted as he wiped his running nose on his sleeve.

"Fine with me musketeer...saves you from the gallows I suppose." he sneered.

d'Artagnan felt enrage inside.

"I will be out of here sooner rather than later...you will see." he sneered back to the mocking guard.

The guard laughed out loud sounding pig like.

"They all say that lad...yer no different from them peasants. Your getting yer neck stretched in three days time."

The cell door was slammed shut and locked behind him leaving an incensed musketeer behind him.

d'Artagnan kicked out at the bowl of swill in anger,spreading the entire contents across the opposite wall, the bowl hitting the door as it found the dirt ridden floor.

He could hear the loud sniggering as the red guard walked away from the cell, the laughter waning as he went.

oooOooo

**Royal Palace.**

The large ornate doors were opened as the yeoman entered swiftly.

Porthos glanced to each of his brothers.

"He's in a rush." he murmered out of earshot to the king.

Athos and Aramis eyed the man as he approached Louis. Something was amiss.

The king turned on him instantly.

"Well man...where is the Deacon?

The yeoman bowed nervously.

"Your majesty...it would seem he has fled the palace...

Louis interrupted rapidly.

..."FLED! what do you mean...where has he gone?

Tréville glanced towards his men, his features that of perplexed unrest.

"I have learned he left a couple of hours ago your majesty, it is unknown where he has fled to."

Louis turned red with rage as he turned to Tréville.

"I wager he has gone to meet the Cardinal as he returns from LaHarve Sire."

"Dear God Tréville it would seem I am surrounded by scoundrels and rogues." yelled the king dramatically I cannot even trust the clergy."

oooooOOooooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Hope you are all well, the cold weather is beginning to set in here now.**

**Thank you very much for the brilliant comments, love reading them so much.**

**Well what next for our boys, will they manage to have d'Artagnan released from the Bastille.**

**Will post ASAP!**

**Take Care **

**Pippa xxxx**

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	8. Chapter 8

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Eight.**

**Outskirts of Paris**

**LaHarve Road.**

The dark clouds had gathered over the forest, thunder rolled in the distance. The late afternoon calm before the storm had become a wild wind that swept up the fallen leaves around the trees as the horses hooves galloped through an arched treeline towards the LaHarve road.

Deacon Clement Arouet's long flowing cloak bellowed out behind him as he rode as rapid as he could. He could now feel the first droplets of rain as he galloped. The ground was becoming muddy and soft as he sped, but he had to keep going, he knew Cardinal Durand was on his way back from LaHarve to Paris, he had to warn him that Captain Tréville and his musketeers had found a letter from himself to Madame Anon, the king would surely summon him on his arrival back to the palace, it could stir up unrest.

ooOoo

The rickety carriage of Cardinal Durand continued through the thunder and the rain. His ten man entourage on horseback as they rode through the now drenched and muddy terrain.

Durand sat in comfort as he was driven back to Paris, he peered through the carriage window as lightning split the dark sky in two, followed by the loudest earth shattering thunder clap. Durand closed back the drape and sat back, this would hinder his swift arrival back to Paris, just when he wanted to return as swiftly as he could. He needed to initiate his new undertakings swiftly.

Durand looked opposite himself at the two Englishmen, both sitting in silence as they travelled, their very beings rocking from left to right as the carriage trundled through the storm. The two men he would enlist into the Red Guard regiment in order to gather intelligence for the king of England and of course himself.

The Cardinal smirked slightly as he eyed each man. They both resembled the gunpowder conspirator Guy Fawkes who had been executed in 1606 for trying to blow up the Houses Of Parliament in London, they could have indeed passed as brothers. But whom they resembled was trivial, all that was at the forefront of his mind was to rid Paris of Captain Tréville's Musketeers, these two men would indeed aid in the scheme.

"I do hope you men are as impressive as your king says you are gentlemen, I do not take kindly to incompetence. "

The Englishmen swapped glances with one another before looking back at the Cardinal.

"We are here to do a task Your Eminence, we will not fail you, if it be intelligence our king so desires, then it be intelligence he shall have."

Durand grinned as another thunderclap emitted around them.

"I must say gentlemen I am most impressed with your French speaking tongue. I would never know you were both Englishmen. Prey tell me your names."

One of the men grinned slightly.

"James Payne at your service your Eminence." he said bowing his head towards the cleric. My comrade here is...

"Ned Wade your eminence!

The man retorted his name before his friend had burly gotten the words out.

Durand nodded his head.

"Good...now I have a name to go with the faces." he sniggered.

Another clap of thunder rolled overhead as the carriage suddenly came to a halt. Loud voices could be heard yelling into the storm, horses hooves becomming louder.

The two men instantly grabbed their pistols prompting the cardinal to peer through the window and yell towards his red guard captain.

"Venell...prey tell me what is happening, why have we stopped?

The rain was heavier now as another lightning strike lit up the dark sky. Captain Venell had dismounted his stallion and approached the carriage door.

"Your Eminence...its Deacon Arouet, it would seem he has news from the palace."

Arouet suddenly appeared beside Venell, he opened the carriage door and climbed in beside the cardinal. Durand eyed him, his wet clothing making him feel uncomfortable and suddenly cold.

The two Englishmen swapped glances and yielded their weapons rapidly.

Arouet eyed both men, he could feel their eyes boring into his very soul.

"What is it Clement...why do you travel through a storm at such haste? asked the curious cardinal.

The deacon had gotten his breath back and wiped his dampened face with a hankerchief. He glared at the two Englishmen with curious apprehension.

Durand read his mind as he glanced from Arouet to the two men opposite.

"You may speak freely in their presence Clement, they are trusted associates between myself and the King of England.

Arouet sighed heavily and nodded.

_Why did I ever become involved in such deception, it is becoming far too dangerous._

"The musketeers have found the missive I conveyed to Madame Anon your Eminence...they have submitted it to the king...I heeded every word spoken. I came to warn you forthwith."

Durand sat back in his seat, his features that of anger and anguish. What would he do now.

"YOU FOOL! you should not have signed such correspondence with your own hand...you have made a grave error Clement."

Arouet was trembling, his face becoming ashen.

"How was I to know the Musketeers would find it Your Eminence...I was just following your instruction."

Durand glared at the fraught deacon, he suddenly grabbed him by his cloak ties and seethed into his terrified features.

"I will not hang because of your mistake you oaf, as soon as we reach the palace the king will no doubt summon me forthwith...what am I supposed to convey to him Clement.?

Durand shook him aggressivly for an answer.

"Answer me!

Arouet began to sob into his hands, his cries becoming a blubbering echo around the carriage.

He suddenly grabbed the Cardinal's hand in his.

"Prey tell me what to do to Your Eminence...I regret my wrongdoing, I have been foolish."

Durand pulled away from the sobbing cleric and sat back, he glanced acoss at the two Englishmen and cocked his head to the right.

The two men knew instantly what they had to do as they grabbed Arouet and threw him from the carriage. Both men themselves leaping after him.

They stood watching as the cleric crawled on his hands and knees on the muddy ground as he struggled to stand, his robes impeding his every attempt to get to his feet.

The entourage finding it rather amusing as a chorus of sniggers emitted into the damp air.

The two Englishmen stood watching his plight.

"Take my hand Clement." sneered Ned suddenly.

Arouet outstretched his arm and was pulled to his feet swiftly.

The cleric frowned with a curious glance at each man as he was manhandled towards the rear of the riding party.

"My horse is ahead of the carriage gentlemen." he mumbled hoarsly.

The two Englishmen remained silent as they dragged the sodden man into the thicket of brambles.

"You will not be needing your horse Clement...you will not be returning to Paris." retorted James Payne.

Clement stared at the two men, anguish had filled his eyes.

"I do not understand...

Ned Wade reached for his pistol and held it to the mans temple.

The clerics features had turned white rapidly, his eyes widened with fear.

"Please...no...what are you doing?...I am...the...Cardinals adviser'.

Lightning lit up the sky followed by another clap of thunder as Ned pulled the trigger muffling the sound of pistol fire.

Clement Arouet's lifeless body dropped to the ground, blood oozing from his head and channeling along with the rain as it continued to fall onto the muddy ground.

The two Englishmen returned to the Cardinal's carriage.

Captain Venell had witnessed the entire slaughter of Deacon Arouet from behind a large oak. He watched as the two men opened the carriage door and jumped in. He turned back to the now sodden body of Arouet, the rainwater puddles around his body were now a scarlet torrent of mud and blood.

Venell returned to his horse and mounted, his mind a clutter of festering curiosity and despondency.

_Whoever these two men were showed no mercy, not even to a Holy man._

Durand glanced up as the two Englishmen reclaimed their seats opposite him in the carriage. The men showing no emotion as they caught the Cardinals eyeline.

"Well? murmered the cleric.

"He is nomore Your Eminence. He is with his God."

Durand sat back and eyed the two men. He rapped on the roof of his carriage and yelled up to his horseman.

"Proceed!

They heard Venell's voice roaring into the storm as he ordered the entourage to continue it's journey.

The carriage jolted into motion once again as the thunder rolled above. The sudden hooves and snorts of the horses as they began their pace.

"It seems you have fulfilled your expectations gentlemen." mumered Durand sounding almost jollity. I may require your abilities as I slowly destroy the musketeer regiment."

Ned nodded slightly.

"That is one task we will thrive on seeing through Your Eminence, we will tarry until you give your word."

Durand grinned as he wrung his hands together with haughty exuberance.

"As soon as we reach Paris, you both go with Venell, he has uniforms prepared for your arrival."

Ned smirked slightly and nodded.

"It would seem you have thought of everything Your Eminence."

Durand quirked a brow.

"Quite!

The riding party travelled through the night, the storm had dwindled, just a slight rain still fell. Dawn had begun to show its presence as the distant sky became a murky orange hue. They would reach Paris in a couple of hours.

oooOooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Everyone,**

**Glad you are all staying with the story. **

**Thank you so much for the brilliant comments, love then all.**

**Well just when you thought Richelieu was a devious rogue, another one comes along, but this one is much more evil than he ever was. **

**What will he have his two spies do next, will he riggle out of poor d'Artagnan's plight? Will the king believe his lies?**

**And what has he got in store for the rest of the boys?**

**Speak soon guys,**

**Take Care**

**Pippa xxx**

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	9. Chapter 9

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Nine.**

**Royal Palace**

**Paris.**

It was early morning when the carriage of Cardinal Durand and his entourage trundled through the palace gates and into the courtyard. The horses snorting and whinnying as they came to an abrupt halt. The men dismounting their beasts and handing them over to the stable lads who had risen at dawn and tarried in wait for the entourage.

**Royal Cambers**

**Two Hour Later.**

Cardinal Durand had been summoned forthwith within twenty minutes of arriving back at the palace. The cleric becoming irate at being kept waiting outside the grand ornate doors. Right this moment his mind was in turmoil as he went over what possible questions the king would without doubt ask of him. His devoted Deacon Arouet had been foolish in his correspondence, the only outcome had been to hush his mouth, he would not hang for anyone. At least he knew he could rely on his two new recuits.

Durand jolted from his musing as the large ornate doors were suddenly opened by two guards.

"His majesty will receive you now Your Eminence." said the guard bluntly.

Durand had stood from the chaise longue, fixing his robes he slowly entered the chamber.

He felt a sudden enrage fill his very being as he noticed Captain Tréville and three of his men stood at Louis's left as he approached.

_Just what is he up to? why are the interfering musketeer captain and his men in council with the oaf of a monarch._

Durand reached the group, he could feel all eyes on him as he bowed before his king.

Louis eyes peered right at him, what had these musketeers stirred up now.

"Your majesty, I gather you are most eager to discover my finding on trade with England.? murmered the cleric with a slight smirk. "The king sends his highest regards and has sent gifts of tea and his finest mead."

Tréville swapped discreet glances with his three men, each one catching each others rapid eyeline.

Louis stood abruptly from his chair and picked up a parchment from the table that stood to his right. The monarch had remained silent so far as he heeded Durands greeting.

"Right this moment Durand...gifts are the last thing on my mind...I trust you had a pleasant journey back from LaHarve? he asked almost theatrically.

Durand bowed his head once more as he caught Tréville's staring eyes.

"Slightly damp Sire, but we had no trouble on the road and were able to proceed through the storm."

The king re-took his seat and eyed his First Minister with intrigue, he waved the parchment between his fingers. Louis's features had become rapidly scarlet as he outstretched his arm and handed the missive to the perplexed cleric.

"Prey explicate to me Cardinal the meaning of such correspondence sent to a Madame Anon...written in Deacon Arouet's hand."

Durand felt the rage seething inside as he took the missive and read. His hand trembled slightly as he scanned down the page.

"Forgive me Sire...but may I enquire as to whom Madame Anon is...am I supposed to know this woman.?

Louis and Tréville swapped dubious glances before the king himself glared back at Durand.

"According to the message you yourself are mentioned withing its contents Cardinal." pressed the king sounding vexed.

Durand swallowed hard as he shot a enraged glance at Tréville and his men.

_Look at them, standing there as if they own Paris. I will have my day you interfering mutineers._

"I am at a complete loss your majesty...I had become somewhat worried for my dear Deacon Arouet before I left for England...he was becoming rather fraught about certain tasks, I do believe Sire he was on the boundary of lunacy...his physician had discussed something similar with me months before."

Porthos clenched his teeth with hidden rage as he side glanced his brethren. The big musketeer knew they were feeling the same rage. What is this tale he was spinning, surely the king will see through his lies and deception.

Athos and Aramis swapped discreet iritated glances.

Tréville shook his head slightly in disbelief as he heeded the Cardinals words. The musketeer captain becoming more irked as each second ticked by, he could feel the incensed vexation emitting from his three men. He slowly saunted forward as he glared at Durand.

"Your majesty...this whole scenario is absurd...it is a complete fabrication...and I still have an innocent man confined in a cell within the Bastille because of this deception."

Louis shot a glance towards Tréville and held up his hand to pause the musketeer captains interruption before turning on Durand.

"Are you informing me that Deacon Arouet conspired to have one of my musketeers arrested for a crime that has unfounded proof of guilt?

Durand pursed his lips and stared down at the ground, he lifted his head up and stared at Tréville's enraged features before averting his eyes to Louis.

"I know nothing of such deception Sire...but as I explained prior, Deacon Arouet's behaviour has been somewhat unsettling."

Tréville sniggered and snorted as he glanced back at his men, he shook his head and turned to Louis.

The king had sat back in his chair and was pinching the bridge of his nose, his face that of dumbfounded curiosity.

"This is a travesty of justice your majesty...what would Deacon Arouet have against one of my men?

Louis sighed aloud and lifted his head up, he looked straight at the cardinal.

"Answer the captain Durand!

Durand felt his insides becoming a burning enrage as he stared at Tréville.

"I cannot Sire...I am at a loss myself."

The king eyed the cleric.

"You should have informed me about Arouet's behaviour sooner Cardinal, maybe we could have thwarted this whole charade."

Durand bowed his head.

"My humble apologies Sire...I was unaware he was capable of such deception...he was always a man of few words."

"WAS? retorted Athos suddenly. "You speak as though he is dead your eminence."

Porthos and Aramis not taking their eyes off Durand waited for his response.

Durand suddenly corrected his error as he caught the swordmans glare.

_Damn musketeer!_

"IS...I learned he has fled the palace, I was merely anticipating he will not return...knowing what he has done." came the answer.

"So does this mean we may release Musketeer d'Artagnan Sire? asked Tréville suddenly.

Louis stood and sauntered over to his table, he picked up a parchment and quill and began to scribble.

The king turned towards Tréville and his men, he handed the missive to the older man and cast a glance to each musketeer.

"This is an order for his immediate release Tréville."

The musketeer captain took the missive and bowed his head.

"I am most grateful Sire...thank you."

He turned to his three elated men and handed the letter to Athos.

"Go!

The three musketeers bowed to their king before turning to leave the chamber. Their booted footfalls reverberated off the walls as they approached the doors and closed them behind them.

Louis turned to Durand.

"When and if Deacon Arouet returns Cardinal...you will summon him to my chambers forthwith...I will not have the palace clergy conspiring behind my back...do I make myself clear?

Durand bowed his head.

"As you wish Sire...I shall have the red guard search for him without hesitation. I myself will scold him heavily."

"It sounds to me that scolding is not the answer Cardinal, you say he is unstable, he should be banished from Paris. I will not have him attend my court."

"I shall see to it myself Sire." murmered Durand.

oooOooo

**Office Chambers Of**

**Cardinal Durand.**

**One Hour Later.**

Durand sat at his desk, wine goblet in one hand. He sat back musing over the past hours proceedings. He averted his eyes towards the door as a subtle rapping was heard.

"Come in! yelled Durand.

The cleric watched as the door opened and Captain Tréville entered. The musketeer captain showing obvious indignation.

Durand put down his goblet and smirked slightly.

"Ahh...Tréville...I trust your musketeer has been released?

Tréville paused at the desk and glared into the clerics haughty features.

Durand refilled his goblet and swigged back a mouthful of wine.

"Was there something else Captain? he squirmed.

Tréville leaned both hands on the desk and clenched his teeth, his eyes boring into the Cardinals very sole as he leaned in closer.

"The king may believe your fairytale Durand...but alas I do not, If you so much as look at any of my men in the wrong way I will personally hang you myself, I have brought men more powerful than you will ever be down to their knees...I am not going to impede that now."

Tréville turned to go, he paused in his tracks as Durand spoke.

"Be careful Tréville...I may have your regiment disbanded." scoffed Durand taking another swig of wine. "I have more influence than you will ever know."

Tréville snorted a chuckle.

"Cardinal Richelieu said something akin to your words Durand...he is now in his grave rotting away."

Tréville turned again swiftly, his blue cloak swirling with his every movement.

He slammed the door behind him, leaving Durand staring after him.

oooOooo

**Musketeer Garrison**

**Bath House.**

d'Artagnan lay back in the warm water, his eyes closed as his mind mused over the past hours of sheer hell. Tiny droplets ran down his shoulders and onto the floor around him. The lavendar aroma filled the steamy air as he opened his eyes and ran the soap over his body. He knew he could rely on his captain and brothers, he knew they would come for him. The Gascon slid down beneath the water as he lathered his hair, it felt wonderful.

**Garrison Dining Chamber.**

d'Artagnan spooned up the stew ravenously, he broke the bread in half and dipped it into the gravy.

His three brothers swapping grins and glances as they watched their hungry younger brother fill his stomach.

Serge appeared with a large tureen and placed it on the table.

"Here lad...there be more if thee wants it, your must be starvin'

d'Artagnan glanced up at the veteren cook.

"Thanking you Serge...you are the best." he managed to say between mouthfuls.

Aramis chuckled as he watched the Gascon eat.

"This must be the only time I have seen someone actually eat more than Porthos."

Porthos swigged back some ale and frowned at the marksman.

"Rubbish...he has to get through that tureen yet...he will never do it." grinned the big musketeer.

"You carry on my friend you deserve it." said Athos patting the Gascon on the shoulder.

d'Artagnan nodded obliviously as he ate.

"You certainly smell better mon ami." smiled Aramis leaning in closer and sniffing his brother.

"Yeah...I got a slight whiff of rat and rottin' scraps when we opened the cell door." chuckled Porthos.

"Hope you are feeling well mon ami? murmered Athos.

"I feel just fine now." replied d'Artagnan as he wiped the bread around the bowl and ate it. "The bathe did me the worls of good."

That moment Brujon peered around the door.

"The captain wants to see you all when you have finished eating." he said as he entered.

"We may be a while." laughed Porthos eyeing d'Artagnan.

The Gascon sat back suddenly and puffed out his cheeks.

"NO! you win my friend...I have had quite my fill."

Athos turned to the cadet musketeer.

"Inform the captain we are on our way Brujon.

"Yes lieutenant." replied the young man heading for the door.

ooooooOOoooooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Hope you are all well.**

**Cannot believe how near to Christmas we are, where did the year go?**

**Well I hope you are staying with the story because the boys are in for a rough ride.**

**May be slightly late posting this week, work commitments, But I will do my upmost.**

**Speak Soon**

**Pippa xxx**

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	10. Chapter 10

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Ten.**

**Musketeer Garrison.**

Captain Tréville stood staring over the roof tops of Paris, another storm had decided to make its presence known. The dark skies seemed a perfect backdrop for Notre Dame as the cathedral shone from the remaining daylight that lingered. The people of Paris rushed through the streets as the rain became heavier with every passing second. The events of the past few days had weighed heavily on the musketeer captians mind, he had had one of his men arrested for a crime that had become a charade of false allegations. Tréville knew Cardianl Durand was involved, but he also knew he needed that proof, he had been swift in throwing the blame on his missing deacon. Tréville sighed aloud as he turned back into the candlelit chamber and glanced over at his four men who sat in a semi circle around his desk. He picked up his fine brandy and re-took his seat at his desk and poured into five goblets.

"Durand is turning out to a reprobate captain." murmered Aramis as he picked up his own goblet and swished the brandy with a gentle wrist flick.

"Turning out you say...he was born a reprobate." responded the musketeer captain with a snigger.

"I truely believed we had gotten rid of such rogues when Richelieu died." commented d'Artagnan. "It would seem this cardinal makes him look somewhat mild in comparison."

Athos glanced at his brothers as he sipped back some brandy and placed his goblet on the desk.

"It baffles me as to why Deacon Arouet became involved in such guileful behaviour, he has always seemed such a placid and bashful man." added the swordsman.

Porthos sniggered aloud.

"That bloody cardinal has probably cajoled 'im into doin' somethin' he didn't want, I wouldn't trust Durand as far as I could throw 'im...he's as cunning as a fox dog."

"That's probably why he fled so swiflty...he was probably fearing for his life." commented Aramis.

Tréville swigged the rest of the contents in his goblet.

"We will leave Arouet to the red guard for the time being, they will no doubt find the man, in the meantime gentlemen I want to find out what our Cardinal is up to. And we need to find this Madame Anon."

"One thing captain." said Athos suddenly. "Aramis and I never did find this mystery woman, maybe we should pay another visit."

Aramis quirked both brows as he heeded his brothers words.

"Artus Bernas...the former red guard captain, he did say he would help us with our findings."

d'Artagnan furrowed his brows in response to the marksmans words.

"Former red guard!...tell me your jesting? queried the Gascon in awe.

All eyes turned on the young man.

"He was a red guard years before any of you boys were born d'Artagnan." answered Tréville swiftly, knowing full well he had had this same conversation with the others. "He was once a most honourable red guard of the kings father Henry lV."

d'Artagnan shot a glance to each of his brothers as Tréville spoke.

"Honourable!...do the red guard even know the meaning of the word?

Porthos snorted and sniggered.

"Thats now lad, they were once an honourable regiment, now they can't even spell honourable."

Aramis chuckled with a nod in agreement at the big man.

"The old king would be enraged at what he witnessed now." he murmered.

"King Henry would never have tolerated such a sham regiment now." added Tréville folding his arms behind his head. "He would have had the lot disbanded for insubordination against the crown."

"What misfortune our dear king Louis does not perceive such festering dishonour within the ranks today." retorted Athos. "It would certainly make our tasks much easier to endure."

"Indeed." commented Aramis.

That moment the musketeers converse was paused and glances were exchanged as loud footfalls reverberated on the wooden staircase outside Tréville's office, followed by the voice of an anxious Brujon yelling to whoever it was to stop, that the captain was busy.

Athos was first up followed by the others as they grabbed their pistols in anticipation.

A loud rap was heard prompting Tréville to respond.

"COME IN! he growled aloud.

The four musketeers stood weilding their weapons as the door opened.

Two red guards entered, both paused in their footsteps, faces red and flustered as they waited for the musketeers pistols to lower.

The smaller guard glared at each man.

"Calm yourselves musketeers...we are simply here with a message from our captain." he murmered.

The taller guard reached into his tunic pocket and handed Tréville a missive.

"Captain Venell conveys this...Tréville."

Porthos glared.

"Its captain Tréville to you...where's yer manners? he growled. "And why does it take two of yer to deliver a missive?

The smaller guard grinned as he caught the big musketeers glaring features.

Aramis sniggered as he placed a hand on Porthos's shoulder and laughed.

"Probably too afraid to enter the garrison alone my friend. Too great a risk."

Porthos chuckled with a guffaw laugh, prompting a warning glance from Tréville to both musketeers to cease the goading.

The tall guard smirked as Tréville took the missive and broke the red guard seal.

All eyes turned on the older man as he read down the page, his brows furrowed as he scrutinised the parchment.

Athos was watching his captains reaction, something in the missive had agitated the man. He had seen that look before and did not like it, something was very wrong.

Tréville glanced up at the two red guard as they tarried for a reply.

"Inform Captain Venell we shall come swiflty."

Both guards nodded, they cast a glance towards the musketeers before turning on their heel and leaving the chamber.

Brujon was red faced as he closed the door behind them and turned to Tréville.

"My apologies captain, they just suddenly appeared and were up the steps before I knew it."

Tréville jolted from his muse as the cadet spoke, he picked up his goblet and swigged back the rest of the contents.

"Its fine Brujon...its fine...carry on with your tasks lad."

Tréville waited until the boy had closed behind himself.

The musketeers exchanging perplexed and fretful eye contact with one another.

"Captian? pressed Athos suddenly. "What is it?

Tréville stood from his chair and began to put on his doublet.

"Deacon Arouet...his body has been found in the forest...near to the LaHarve road...apparently shot through the head."

The men looked from one to the other as they swapped bewildered glances.

"Porthos! d'Artagnan! you will both accompany me to the palace, Aramis! Athos! continue your search for Madame Anon."

The musketeers moved swiflty as they responded to Captain Tréville's orders, the five men emerging from the office chamber as they discended the wooden steps.

ooOoo

**Rue La Huchette House.**

Madame Estelle Bernas stood aside as the two musketeers entered the house.

"My husband said you would be back." she said as she closed the door behind them. "He also told me to allow you entry."

Aramis bowed slightly with a winsome smile, his hat against his chest as he took the womans hand in his and kissed her white knuckles.

Athos rolled his eyes as he watched his brother's antics.

"You are most kind madame, we learned your husband was once a guard in the royal palace. And may I say how warm it is within the house, the weather outside is chilling to the bone."

The elderly woman nodded as she began to walk towards her scullery. The two men following her.

"I have some heated meade on the fire if you want to try some musketeers, I find it heats the body up when cold."

Athos and Aramis caught each others glances as they followed her into the scullery. A roaring fire burned in the grate, the flames licking up into the chimney breast.

"Why thank you madame...that would indeed be most gratifying I'm sure." replied Aramis.

Both musketeers sat drinking the meade as the elderly woman chopped up vegatables.

Athos quirked a brow as he took a sip and nodded his appreciation towards his friend.

"Can I ask madame." asked the swordsman.

"Is Madame Anon at home?

The old woman glanced up from her vegatables, her features deep in thought.

"Last time you two young men visited, you asked about a certain Madame Jenelle, I have never heard of, but yes Madame Evette Anon is in residence here, but whether she be home is another story, it be rare she is home in the day, she is occupied at night time, my husnabd may know, he sits all day watching everyone coming and going. But I tell you now, be careful, I heed she can be trouble if provoked."

"I am surprised you permitted her to lodge here Madame." murmered Aramis.

The elderly woman turned to stir her stewing pot.

"She pays me rent on time each week, we need the income to live on." came the answer.

"If we may be permitted to go up to speak with your husband madame." asked Athos suddenly.

She dryed her hands on her apron and nodded.

"Certainly...you know where he is."

Artus Bernas remained in his position of staring out of the window as he yelled come in to the two musketeers.

"I watched you both walk down the lane towards the house, I am glad you returned musketeers. I informed my dear wife to allow you access."

Athos and Aramis swapped quirked glances as the old mans hoarse voice murmered.

"We had to come back Monsieur, we need to find Madame Anon, we believe her to be involved in conspiring with Cardinal Durand." retorted Athos walking across the chamber towards the old man.

Artus Bernas glanced up at the swordsman.

"She was here this morning and went out, she sometimes returns a couple of hours later, by all means gentlemen you may tarry in wait."

"That is our intention Monsieur, it is most paramount we speak with her." said Aramis.

Athos had walked to the window, he stared down at the busy street below, people returning from market, children playing.

"In what direction does she come from? he asked as he continued his scrutiny of the street.

The old man stirred as he shot a glance up at the swordsman.

"The road straight ahead, she is usually accompanied by three men." he relied hoarsly.

Aramis quirked both brows as he took a seat.

"Do you know these men Monsieur? he asked.

Artus shook his head.

"Never seen two of them before, the other one was the man whom I seen talking to your musketeer before he was arrested."

Both Athos and Aramis switched curious eye contact.

Another hour ticked by as the two musketeers waited and watched at the window. The old mans wife had brought up broth and bread for all.

The streets were becoming less occupied, the winter light was beginning to fade, the first candles had been lit in the windows of the Parisian people.

Aramis suddenly stirred as he hit out at Athos arm with the back of his hand.

"I do believe she is on her way now." he murmered taking out his scope and peering though the lens.

Athos had joined his friend at the window, they had left the chamber dark as so not to be seen. Just a lone candle burned on the table near to Monsieur Bernas.

The swordsman had taken out his own scope and scrutinised the riders approaching.

"A woman and two men, could that be her Monsieur? asked Aramis turning to the old man.

"What colour is her cloak? he asked swiflty.

"Gold brocade." came the sudden answer from Athos.

Artus nodded.

"That be her gentlemen...that be her. "Be very careful musketeers...those men look fierce."

"Do not fret Monsieur...we are trained soldiers." replied Aramis.

oooooOOooooo

**TBC...**

**Thank you for reading guys, hope you are still enjoying the ride.**

**I do hope you are all very well.**

**I will do my upmost to post new at the weekend.**

**Speak soon**

**Pippa xxx**

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	11. Chapter 11

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Eleven.**

**Rue La Huchette House.**

Athos and Aramis slowly crept onto the top floor landing, the two musketeers waiting in the corner of darkness as they heard the womans voice speaking to the two men as they ascended the stairs and entered her chamber closing the door behind them.

Athos stepped forward slightly before pausing in his tracks as Madame Anon's door opened once more and the two men emerged and hurried down the stairs towards the front entrance. The two friends in silent conversation as they watched the men vacate the house.

"It seems she is now alone, they have left." murmered Athos.

Aramis nodded.

"I wonder where they are going at such haste? he commented as he followed Athos down the stairs.

Athos rapped on the chamber door, Aramis keeping his eyes trained on the entrance knowing the two men could return at any time.

The door opened slowly with a slight creek, Madame Anon's eyes peering through the small gap, she opened the door wider and eyed each man in turn.

"Ahh...musketeers, what brings you to my door? she smirked softly.

"You are Madame Evette Anon are you not." asked Athos.

The woman frowned slightly, lines forming on her forehead.

"I am...who wants to know?

"We wish to speak with you madame." replied. Athos.

The woman pursed her lips and smirked.

"You had better come in then gentlemen." came the reply.

Athos and Aramis shot a swift glance at each other as they followed her inside.

The aroma of primrose scent filled the air as she turned, her long tresses caressed her shoulders. Her tall frame walking gracefully towards a chaise longue were she sat draping her robes around the furniture.

She glanced towards the two men who stood watching her.

"Now...prey tell me...how can I help you musketeers?

"I think you already know why we are here madame." retorted Athos as he scanned around the chamber, the same chamber he and Aramis had searched only hours prior.

Evette stirred into the swordmans eyes, she turned to Aramis and smirked.

"It seems your friend thinks me a sorcerer...I do not know as to what you mean Monsieur."

Aramis quirked his brows and eyed her.

"A couple of days ago one of our comrades was arrested for rape and attempted murder...we believe the woman involved was yourself madame."

She glanced from one man to the other swiftly before gesturing to them both to sit.

The two musketeers sat at the table in the middle of her chamber.

Aramis noticed how she figited with her hair, and nervously scratched at her wrist.

"I am at a loss gentlemen...I have not been involved in any such heinous a crime...you must have the wrong abode."

Athos leaned one arm on the table and stirred at her in almost disbelief. _How she takes us for fools, she sounds almost licit._

"Oh we have the correct house madame, we also know you are working for Cardinal Durand, it would be most wise of you if would accompany us to the Garrison forthwith. There are questions that need answering."

Evette began to chuckle out loud prompting both musketeers to swap rapid glances.

"Really musketeers you really need to find other tasks to keep you occupied, I always thought you were honourable men, but it seems you take enjoyment in involving innocent women in your fantasy crimes. Why don't you both run along and find some other gullible female to torment."

"Believe me madame the only one here living a fantasy is yourself, would you prefer I call you madame Anon or Jenelle? asked Athos bluntly.

Evette stood instantly as did Athos and Aramis, she stared into the swordmans face and clenched her teeth tightly with rage. She swung her right hand up towards his face, only to be thwarted by the musketeers tight grip to her wrist as he ceased the blow.

Athos stared into her face and shook his head slightly.

"Not a wise move madame." he murmered.

Aramis smirked at his friend and quirked a brow.

"It is usually I who has to impede a females slap to the face mon ami, especially one who discovers I have many lady friends." he murmered into his friends ear.

Aramis received an irksome roll of the eyes from the swordsman.

"Tether her, I fear she will not come quietly."

"I think I would remember if I had been involved in such repulsive goings on." she seethed in rage. Her words of anger were ignored.

Aramis took Evette by the hands and secured her wrists, he smiled into her eyes.

"Forgive me madame...I do not want to have to hurt you...it is not in my blood. But it seems you are standing belligerent."

Evette struggled against the marksman to no avail as he held the tethers.

"You are making one big mistake musketeers...I warn you both now...there will be reprecussions, your allegations are a complete charade."

Athos glared at her as she was led out of the door, he glanced upwards noticing the elderly woman watching the proceedings from the landing.

"We will see madame...we will see." he retorted.

**Palace Mortuary.**

Captain Tréville entered the palace mortuary followed closely by Porthos and d'Artagnan. The mortician glanced up at the three men as they scanned the large cold and sombre chamber. Captain Venell was already present as they approached the slab.

"Captain Tréville...I have been expecting you." greeted the mortician hoarsly.

Tréville nodded in acknowledgement towards Venell receiving a nod back.

The mortician pulled back the calico sheet revealing the body of Deacon Arouet.

Porthos and d'Artagnan swapped glances as they moved nearer to the slab.

All eyes stared down at the shattered scull of the cleric. The stench of dry rotting blood emitted into the air.

"Dear God...this is a cold blooded slaughter." gasped Tréville.

The mortician nodded.

"That it is captian that it is, prey tell me who kills a man of God?

"I would say someone who has a lot to hide and is fearful for his life." growled Porthos.

d'Arragnan scrutinised the wound carefully.

"Was he shot anywhere else? he asked glancing up at th mortician.

The man shook his head.

"No...just the head, it would have been instant looking at that shattered scull."

Tréville turned to Venell, he noticed how the man had remained hushed, he appeared fraught, almost reticent, the red guard captain had seen many a dead body over the years, he knew that would not bother him, but something certainly was.

"Where exactly did you find his body? asked the musketeer captain.

Venell jolted from his muse.

"The LaHarve road, I wrote it in the missive Tréville." he retorted.

"Just checking Venell...just checking." came the reply.

"How far from Paris? asked Porthos.

Venell glanced up at the big musketeer.

"About two hours away...hidden in the bracken, we would never have found him if it wasn't for his cloak, it had gotten caught on the thorns."

"Has Cardinal Durand been informed of this? pressed Tréville.

"No...I thought I should send word to you first Tréville...the king is not even aware of the finding."

Tréville caught Porthos and d'Artagnan's swift glances at Venell's words.

He was indeed acting very strange for a man who thrived on taking all the credit, he was in fact very melancholy.

The musketeer captain nodded slightly as he eyed him.

"Then I shall inform them both myself Venell...you should have notified the king staight away."

Tréville turned to go before glancing back at the mortician.

"Be aware...you may have visitors...have the Deacon's body moved to the chapel. No doubt the the king himself will want to pay his respects."

The mortician nodded in acknowledgement.

"What about the Cardinal...he was his friend was he not?

Tréville averted his eyes to Venell before answering.

"I do not believe Durand is a man who has many friends...but I am certain he has plenty a minion."

Tréville turned to his men and ushered them to the door. He could tell both musketeers were also perplexed by Venell's behaviour.

"Come...we need to speak to the king."

The three men walked down the passageway on their way to the royal chambers, unaware of the observing eyes of one of the red guards who stood on duty outside the Mortuary, the eyes of James Payne one of Durands English spies.

"Something is amiss in this whole parody, Venell knows more than he is willing to discuss." murmered Tréville as they walked swiflty.

"He didn't seem his usual contrary bloody minded self, I noticed that." growled Porthos.

"I find it rather a coincidence that the Deacon was murdered on the same road that the Cardinal was travelling on, wasn't Venell and his men escorting his eminence back to Paris? commented d'Artagnan.

"Gets more and more complex by the minute." murmered Tréville.

Porthos paused in his tracks prompting Tréville and d'Aartagnan to stop and look back at him.

"What? asked d'Artagnan.

"Wait...the Deacon fled the palace...the king had summoned him to ask him some questions about that letter Athos and Aramis found."

Tréville nodded in agreement, his mind a mudle of thoughts.

"Your right...I reckon he went to meet the Cardinal on his way back from LaHarve...maybe they were both involved in this charade."

oooOooo

**Palace Crypt.**

Cardinal Durand paced back and forth, his cloak billowed out as he turned sharply and glared at the the two men stood before him. The same two men that had accompanied Madame Anon back to her abode.

"Why did you not just kill them both you fools, you know what the musketeers are capable of."

"Too many witnesses cardinal, they took her back to the garrison cells, no doubt to question her whereabouts." came the reply. "If we had been seen killing two musketeers it would have made matters worse."

Durnad clenched his teeth fiercely distorting his features.

"You have get her out of there, I do not care how you do it, kill anyone who stands in your path, I will not have Tréville and his musketeers hinder my plans, they need to be obliterated from this earth." he almost spat out.

Durand glared at both men enraged.

"Do I make myself clear gentlemen? he seethed.

"I have never killed a musketeer before Cardinal...I feel somewhat joyful at the prospect." came the reply.

Durand eye both men.

"GO!...do not fail me...or you reap the consequences."

The two men bowed slightly before turning on their heels and vacating the cold crypt.

Durand stood almost stauesque as waited for their footfalls to abate before turning and leaving himself down the passageway to the palace.

ooooOOoooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**So sorry for the late posting, had a very busy week. Hope you are still enjoying the ride.**

**Well what will become of the boys now? Lets hope they come to realise just how evil our dear Cardinal really is.**

**Speak Soon**

**Pippa **

**xxx**

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	12. Chapter 12

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Twelve.**

**Royal Chambers.**

Captain Tréville had felt somewhat reluctant in having to inform the king about the murder of Deacon Arouet, but it was something that had to be done, he felt an iritating niggle chipping away at his suspicious thoughts and couldn't quite shake them off. Cardinal Durand was uppermost in his thoughts, the cleric was indeed sinister. Something in the back of his mind was telling him he had something to do with the deacons murder, if not himself then someone working for him.

The king was slouched back in his chair as he heeded Captain Tréville's report. Cardinal Durand stood to his right, the mans posture was pompous as he stood listening, although his features changing swiftly at the mention on the deacons murder.

Porthos and d'Artagnan swapping discrete and rapid glances at the clerics response.

The king sat upstraight as Tréville announced the tragedy, his face turning ashen rapidly as he shot a glance at Durand.

"Dear Lord! did you know of this misfortune cardinal? he gasped. "Why would someone kill a man of God?

Durand kissed his crucifix before letting the chain drop.

"This is such sorrow Sire, I am at a loss, I shall prey for his sole. I am somewhat grief stricken at such tidings." he murmerd.

Louis turned to the musketeer captian.

"Have you any clue as to whom would want to murder a deacon Tréville?

Tréville turned his glare from Durand to a despondent look as he caught the kings eyeline.

"Not at present your majesty, but I have men out searching as we speak."

"Where has his body been taken? asked Durand suddenly.

"Captain Venell had him taken to the Palace mortuary your eminence." replied the musketeer leader.

Louis stood and began to pace the floor.

"I want him taken to the chapel of rest Cardinal...I will not have him become a spetical in a mortuary." he demanded.

Durand bowed his head slightly.

"I shall see to it forthwith your majesty." he answered.

"You may leave us now Captain." said Louis with an oblivious wave of the hand.

Tréville caught Porthos and d'Artagnan by the eye as he turned to the king.

"Before I depart your majesty, my men have arrested a certain Madame Anon, she is the woman who accused musketeer d'Artagnan of rape and attempted murder."

Porthos and d'Artagnan eyed each other discreetly.

Cardinal Durand suddenly figited with his robes, he took a handkerchief from his tunic pocket and began to blot the white calico over his face.

"Are you feeling quite well your eminence? asked Porthos "You look somewhat pallid."

The king followed the big musketeers gaze.

"Can you not see he is in distress over the deacons death man? pressed Louis.

Porthos bowed his head.

"Of course your majesty. he murmered.

d'Artagnan and Tréville swapped rapid glances.

The king turned back to Tréville.

"Why are we discussing this Madame Anon captian when we should be grieving for Deacon Arouet? he demaned.

Tréville eyed the cardinal as he stood almost statuesque, his features that of a troubled man.

"My men have spoken with her, she divulged that she was working for someone within your court, she was in fact paid to have my musketeer arrested for rape, the whole accusation was a charade."

The kings features suddenly turned almost stone faced as he stared at Tréville in awe.

"Are you suggesting there is a spy in our midst captain? Dear God is nothing sacred? I do hope your men have their wits about them Tréville, I want this renegade found and punished forthwith."

Durand stood almost frigid, his face downcast, he could feel the musketeers eyes boring through his very being as he slowly lifted his head and caught the musketeer captain glaring his way.

"My men are prepared your majesty, we will find the perpetrator." replied Tréville casting an eye over Durand.

Durand stood silent, his jaw clenched tightly.

"Prey tell me...where is this woman now? asked Louis suddenly.

"She is at present held within the garrison cells Sire." came the answer.

Louis shot a glance towards Durand then back at Tréville.

"Have her confined within the Bastille...I will not have these peasents raising revolt against the monarchy."

Tréville bowed his head.

"As you wish Sire."

oooooOOooooo

**Bastille.**

"You are making a big mistake musketeers...you will pay with your lives for this." shrieked Madame Anon as a red guard pushed her into the reeking and dismal chamber.

"Get your dirty hands off me man." she demanded.

The guard sniggered aloud ignoring her pleas.

The cell doors slammed shut reverberating the thud din off the gloomy passage walls as the red guard hooked his keys back onto his belt.

"Hey...show some consideration there is no need to treat her like an animal." groused Aramis as he and Athos watched the doors close behind her.

The red guard smiked into the marksmans face and snorted.

"They be all animals in 'ere musketeer...she is no different...the king wanted her locked in 'ere."

"I am well aware of the kings demand." murmered Aramis. "We received the order from our captain an hour ago."

The guard smirked as he began to walk away down the passage.

Madame Anon continued her rant as they walked.

"DO YOU HEED MY WARNING MUSKETEERS? she yelled.

The two friends glanced at one another, the marksman shook his head as they followed the guard.

"I want her cell checked every hour, there are plenty who want her free, I suggest you have a guard on duty outside the door at all times." ordered Athos.

The guard paused in his tracks and chuckled.

"She won't escape from 'ere musketeer, them there doors are thick steel."

Athos rolled his eyes and sighed as he cast an iritating look at Aramis.

"It is not the her I am worried about, it is whom may try and enter in order to release her." replied the swordsman.

"You musketeers are all the same...you think you are better than us...rest assured no one will enter or exit."

"I do hope your right about that." said Aramis sounding unconvinced and quirking both brows towards Athos.

oooooOooooo

Cardinal Durand paced back and forth in his office chamber, pausing now and then as he thought deep and hard, he scratched at his temple with iritation before moving to his desk and pouring out some brandy into a goblet. With one gulp he threw the contents into his throat and poured another. The doors suddenly shot open as two red guards entered. Durand glanced up, he gestured them towards him with a swift finger movment. The two guards lifted their heads up to acknowledge the cleric, the same two men that Durand had suddenly drafted into the red guard regiment, James Payne and Ned Wade.

"Were you seen? asked Durand.

James Payne shook his head.

"Come now Cardinal, you insult our intelligence." he murmered.

Durand poured another brandy and re-took his seat at his desk.

"I trust you have both heard that Evette Anon has been incarcerated in the Bastille? he asked hoarsly.

The two guards exchange knowing looks.

"We do Cardinal. " replied Ned Wade. "And now you want us to get her out."

Durand glared in his direction, he hated the English arrogance, but he also knew they were very good at what they did and right now he needed as much help as he could get.

"No gentlemen I want her dead, she has a lose tongue, I can not afford to have her alive, she is more a hinderence than anything else, if she speaks to Tréville I am a dead man."

"I thought you had her two associates taking care of her escape from the musketeer garrison? quieried James catching his comrades eye.

Durand sipped more brandy.

"Them two are oafs...they failed. Too many of Trévilles men on guard at one time they said...cowards...but I will use them for another task."

"I take it you have made arrangements for us to gain entry to the Bastille cardinal? asked Ned Wade.

Durand nodded.

"I will have you put on Bastille duties in the coming hour when the next rota shift is over."

"What about the musketeers, you said they want to speak with her." asked Ned.

"Those two dolts will take care of them, I have a plan prepared."

oooooOooooo

**Musketeer Garrison**

**Three Hours Later.**

The torches around the garrison courtyard burned in rows as darkness fell around Paris. The rain had abated allowing a cold wind to blew through the archway and sweeping up hay and dust in swirls.

The candles were lit in the dining chamber as the musketeers ate supper, served up to them by Serge the old veteren cook.

"My money is on Durand killin' the deacon." growled Porthos as he wiped a chunk of bread around his bowl of stew and chomping at the remains.

d'Artagnan nodded around the table and eyed his brothers.

"Having witnessed Durands behaviour this day my friend, I have to agree."

Athos quirked a brow as he poured out ale into his tankard.

"I fear the Cardinal is as clandestine as they come." commented the swordsman. "He makes Richelieu look rather meek in comparison."

The men chuckled at the swordmasns remark.

Aramis supped his ale and sat back in his chair.

"It is indeed strange that the poor mans body was found on the same road our dear Cardinal was travelling on. If not him, then one of his entourage."

"Lets not get too far ahead of ourslelves gentlemen." said Tréville hoarsly as he joined his men at the table and began to eat.

"We still need to find Madame Anon's two associates."

That moment the men glanced up from their meal as the dining chamber doors flew open and Brujon rushed in, he held a sealed missive in his right hand as he appraoched Tréville. The young cadet's features pink with the sudden and immediate scoot.

The four musketeers swapped curious glances.

"One of the kings guard conveyed this Captain, he said it was paramount you read at once." he said with rapid tones.

Tréville eyed the boy curiously as he broke the seal.

"Ah the Cardinal's seal...now I wonder what is so urgent that I need to know in haste? he pondered.

The men watched as Tréville's features turned to disconcerting anguish, the colour drained from his face.

"Captain...what is it." asked Athos suddenly.

Tréville slowly looked up from the parchment and let it drop onto the table.

"Its Madame Anon...she has been found dead in her cell...her throat cut."

Athos glanced back at his brothers, before catching Aramis eyeline.

"So what happened to checking every hour." growled the marksman. "I knew we couldn't trust them lot."

"LETS GO! growled Tréville standing.

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Thanks for your comments, love them all.**

**Hope you are all doing your Christmas shopping, it's one thing I'm not keen on, but I know it has to be done at some stage.**

**Hope you will stay with the story, it will become more intense for the boys.**

**Speak soon**

**Pippa xxxx**

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	13. Chapter 13

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Thirteen.**

**Bastille.**

The cold extinguished spark in her eyes was blank, her lips blue, the sudden fearful horror that had etched itself on her features as Madame Evette Anon had had her life taken from her within seconds. Her throat cut so severe it had almost severed her head. Blood had pooled around her neck and shoulders and had channelled towards the cell doors.

Captain Venell and two of his men stood among the musketeers as they scrutinised the body.

Tréville wiped both hands over his face and sighed as he caught Athos' iritating glance.

"My lieutenant gave you a direct order to check on her every hour, what part of that order did you not comprehend? growled the musketeer captain enraged. "He even asked for a guard to be put outside the cell door."

Venell glared in Tréville's direction as he pushed through the group of men.

"How dare you blame my men for this Tréville, they did check her every hour without fail, she was fine. And as for sparing men to stand guard for one prisoner is unheard of."

"I trust your men have checked the back tunnels to the Bastille? inquired Athos suddenly.

Venell turned on the swordsman and eyed him with a clenched jaw."

"And may I ask who you are to question me musketeer? he seethed.

Athos glared at the man blankly as Tréville's enraged tones filled the air.

"A prisoner has been murdered in the Bastille, a prisoner my men apprehended, I would say that gives them the right to ask as many questions as they want Venell."

Aramis glanced up at the two red gaurds.

"Have you had any other prisoners confined to the Bastille in the last couple of hours?

The two guards shook their heads.

"No...noone entered after you musketeers left, just the rota shift change that is all."

"Rota shift? queried Porthos.

The two guards eyed the big man.

"Yes...our relief guards...what else do you think we meant, we do not reside here all the time you know."

"So where may I ask are these relief guards now? asked d'Artagnan turning his head towards the group.

Venell shook his head with rage as he almost spat out the answer.

"On duty at the entrance...where they should be."

"Then we shall speak with them." said Athos as he tapped the Gascon on the arm in gesture to accompany him before moving off towards the passageway.

Tréville turned back to Venell.

"I suggest you have her body moved to the Paris mortuary swiflty Venell. Something tells me this is not over."

Venell glared at the musketeer captain as he moved off followed by Aramis and Porthos.

He turned back to his two red guard, both men swapping perplexed glances.

"Well you heard him...have the body moved to the morgue NOW!

oOo

The two red guard both glanced up on hearing the booted footfalls as Athos and d'Artagnan approached them.

"Well well, it seems we have company." said James Payne to his comrade in muted tones as they noticed the two musketeers.

"Ahh so these are two of the famous four? murmered Ned Wade under his breath.

Both men stood almost stauesque either side of the entrance gates as the two men drew nearer.

Athos eyed each man in turn, he had not been aquainted with these two guards before, but then again they swapped the regiment like the king swapped his courtiers.

"I trust you have both been informed of the killing of a prisoner this night? asked the swordsman vehemently.

Ned Wade side glanced his friend discreetly and pursed his lips.

"We have yes, a bad business." he replied.

"Captain Venell informed us you began your duties an hour before the murder, did any of you see or hear anything? asked d'Artagnan.

James Payne could feel Athos's eyes boring into him, he had been warned about the musketeer regiment from Cardinal Durand, how impassioned they were when it came to solving any misdeeds.

"I saw nothing musketeers! came the pompous answer.

"And I heard nothing." added Ned Wade.

Athos eyed both men, his eyes averting from one to the other, there was a haughtiness in both men, something he had not witnessed before within the red guard regiment, they were usually swift to mock or become reluctant to answer questions.

"I heed you checked on Madame Anon every hour, did anything seem amiss at any time? asked the swordsman flatly.

James Payne shook his head.

"That is correct...she was fine everytime I checked, she was eating bread and cheese the last time I saw her alive."

Athos nodded as he listened.

"Did anyone come to visit? asked d'Artagnan suddenly.

Ned Wade stifled a grin that had not gone unnoticed by Athos.

"This lot don't receive visitors musketeers, they are doomed from the moment they enter."

The Gascon caught Athos's swift eye contact, both musketeers on the same line of thought.

"I am well aware of that, I am merely speaking of Clerics or court officials." came the reply.

James Payne exchanged glances with his comrade, he knew in his own mind he had to rid all irresolute notions that the musketeers may have.

"Wait!...I thought I heard a noise down one of the tunnels, I went to investigate but nothing...probably rats."

Athos stared into his face, he felt an unease.

"You are not from Paris...am I right?

James Payne swallowed hard, he knew the swordsman was scrutinising him.

"That is quite correct musketeer...I come from the south...Avignon...my mother was from Helvetia...hence the blue eyes." he smiled.

Athos quirked both brows and nodded slightly as he eyed the guard. He turned swiflty on hearing his comrades footfalls, Tréville, Aramis and Porthos joined them.

"Anything? growled Tréville loudly.

"No captain...not this moment." came the swordmans sardonic reply.

Tréville gestured to the two men to open up the large doors.

The loud rasping creek reverberated off the stone walls as the doors were opened allowing the musketeers to vacate the building. Athos pausing slightly and catching both guards eye in turn.

They slammed the door shut behind them with a loud thud. Both men swapping iritated glances.

"Durand was right about them...they are thorough...very thorough." commented Ned Wade.

James sniggered as he bolted the doors.

"That Athos...I do not trust him...he asks too many questions...we need to act forthwith."

"We do not want to arouse suspicion my dear James, but do not fret we shall have our day."

oooOooo

It was past midnight when the musketeers rode into the garrison courtyard and had the horses retired for the night. Having been invited up to Tréville's office for a nightcap the four young men followed their captain up the wooden steps.

oo

Tréville poured brandy into five goblets and passed them around to each of his inseperables gesturing to them to sit.

"You look deep in thought Athos, what is on your mind? asked the older man as he took his seat behind his desk and sipped his drink.

Athos sat back and glanced at his brothers in turn, as he swirled the brandy around his goblet.

Athos is always deep in thought captain." chuckled Porthos squeezing the back of the swordmans neck.

Athos quirked a brow at his big friend and grinned.

"The two red guard d'Artagnan and myself spoke to prior to leaving the Bastille, there was something rather uncurbed about them."

"What do you mean mon ami? asked Aramis heeding his friends words.

Athos sipped his brandy and glanced at the marksman.

"Not quite certain yet, probably pure speculation, maybe after some sleep I will be more coherent in my thinking. I would like to return to the Bastille at first light captain if I may, I would like to ask more questions."

Tréville nodded.

"If you wish, you can meet us at the palace thereafter."

Athos swallowed the rest of his brandy and stood.

"Very well, I shall bid you all good night gentlmen.

"I am right behind you my friend." yawned Aramis placing his empty goblet on Tréville's desk.

oooOooo

**Bastille**

**After Dawn.**

Athos walked the short journey from the Bastille paddock and hammered on the large doors with a clenched hand. He stood back as he heard the loud rasping sounds of the portcullis bolting brackets being opened up in ready for access.

"Ahh you returned musketeer Athos, I thought you might." sniggered James Payne as he eyed the swordsman.

Athos stepped over the griddle at the foot of the doors and entered, he looked from one man to the other.

Loud cries and shrieks reverberated off the dark tunnel walls from the prisoners.

"How many of you are on duty at this moment? asked the swordsman as he scannned his surroundings.

"Six of us in total, Captain Venell is in his office, I trust you wish to speak with him.?

Athos nodded.

"You appear rather vexed musketeer Athos, is something else amiss? asked Ned Wade shooting a glance at his comrade.

The swordsmans eyes averted towards him. The strange feelings had returned, he did not recall telling these two men his name. But maybe he was becoming too suspicious, afterall the past days had been nothing but filled with trepidation and disdain.

"As you both know a prisoner was slaughtered whilst you were on guard duty gentlemen, I would say that was very much amiss as you put it." retorted Athos with an icy glare.

Both guards caught each others glances

"You say Venell is in his office? asked the swordsman.

"He is! came the reply in unison.

The swordsman turned on his heel and sauntered towards Captain Venell's office, the last thing he knew was the darkness that he had succumbed to.

ooooooOOOoooooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Well the Festivites are nearly upon us. I will probably wait until Christmas has passed before posting the next chapter, hope that is ok with you guys,**

**Thanks again for the fab comments, your very kind.**

**Well what has Athos gotten himself into this time?**

**Info: Helvetia is Switzerland today.**

**Speak Soon**

**Pippa xxx**

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	14. Chapter 14

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Fouteen.**

The stallion's dark eyes stared at the man, jerking his head up and down he snorted his presence. James Payne scanned his surroundings of the Bastille stables. The darkening clouds overhead threatened yet another storm. The animal neighed loudly as James Payne stroked his forlock.

"You are a handsome beast are you not." he whispered into the animals ear. "But alas your master has no further use for you." The animal pawed at the ground and snorted as James Payne opened the stable door and slapped its rump, he watched as the lone horse whinnied and tossed its head before galloping off across the open meadow.

oOo

**Palace:**

**Cardinal Durands **

**Office Chambers.**

Cardinal Durand sat back in his chair and smirked as Captain Tréville and three of his men stood before him within his office chamber. He sipped brandy from his goblet and figited with one of his robe sleeves at the cuff. He stood rapidly as he heeded the accusations put to him. Leaning on his desk Durand had become suddenly irate, his features that of both anguish and rage.

"I do not know of this woman you speak of Tréville, and now you have the boldness and discourtesy to say I am in somewhat involved in her slaughter." What is it with your musketeer regiment, are you so bored that you think up fairly tales?

Tréville walked forward slightly, the three musketeers swapping disgruntled and perplexed glances.

"What was it Cardinal? did she threaten to reveal all? and you became fearful for your life...the king would have you hanged at dawn for treason." yelled the musketeer captain.

Durand was seething as he glared in Trévilles direction, he walked around his desk, his jaw clenched tightly.

"Pure and utter speculation on your part Tréville...and you know it. The king will think you have lost your mind."

The musketeer captain stared fiercely, he felt his whole being becoming more enraged by the second.

"Then we shall see shall we not Cardinal, I have assembly with him in an hour, I am certain his majesty will be most intrigued to hear what I have to say."

Durand swiveled around on the spot, his robes billowing out with the sudden movement.

"GET OUT! of my chamber Tréville and take your incompetent musketeers with you, I have better things to be getting on with."

Tréville shot a glance towards his three men before turning back to Durand.

"Oh do not fret Cardinal...we will take our leave...but mark my words, we will return."

Durand lifted his enraged face and watched as the four men turned and walked towards the doors before reclaiming his seat at his desk. The clerics mind was rife with notions of all scenarios as he picked up his fine brandy and filled up the goblet.

oOo

The dark hooves galloped on through the clearing and across the open field, the animal snorting as it sped, the empty saddle seemed eerie, the reins loose as they hung independently from the horses bit.

oOo

"Incompetent he calls us...I'll give 'im incompetent." growled Porthos as they walked down the passage towards the royal chambers.

"It would seem you have rattled his conscience captain." commented Aramis as he raised his hat towards two lady coutiers and gave them a winsome smile, the ladies giggling as they huddled together.

"That I have, and I will strive to keep him rattled as you put it Aramis. Richelieu tried it and failed, I will not allow it to happen again."

"It will be most intriging to see what the kiing makes of this misdeed of his." murmered d'Artagnan as they walked.

"The king seems to hold him in high acclaim." commented Porthos. "Let us hope he sees him for what he is."

Tréville nodded in agreement as he scanned the hall ahead looking for his lieutenant.

"Athos is tardy, he said he would meet us here on his way back from the Bastille. "He knows damn well the king is waiting for us."

The musketeers paused outside the royal chambers receiving a glare from the two red guard as they stood outside the large ornate doors.

"Is his majesty alone? asked Tréville to no man in particular.

"He is with the queen Captain...he asked us to permit you entry when you arrived.

Tréville nodded in acknowledgement.

"Then you better open the doors then." growled Porthos as he eyed each man returning a grimace.

Captain Tréville led his men into the royal chamber, the four men pausing with a bow as they reached the king and queen.

Louis had just dismissed his second adviser away as he glanced up at the musketeers.

"Ahh Tréville...I heed this Madame Anon has been slaughtered in her cell. Have your men distressed her in some way? he sniggered.

Tréville eyed the young monarch, he never did show decorum and respect when it came to mere average people of France. He had always shown his conceited side.

Anne glanced at her husband in disbelief vexation.

"Come now Louis, a woman has lost her life due to some renegade, I fail to see the amusement in such a deed."

The king averted his eyes towards his wife and quirked a brow.

"My dear, I am well aware of how she died, besides the woman was a whore."

Anne grimaced with a slight shake of the head.

Tréville caught his mens iritated glances.

"Indeed your majesty, I intend to find out who killed her, I believe she was involved in some kind of conspiracy against my musketeers."

"Prey tell me Tréville...do you still claim that one of my coutiers could be implicated in such clandestine schemes? asked Louis.

Tréville nodded as he thought.

"I am still scrutinising the likelihood of such matters Sire, and will continue to keep you informed."

oOo

The stallion cantered into the garrison courtyard, snorting and neighing in agitation.

Musketeers and cadets alike ran towards the unnerved animal as they strived to calm him down.

Marcel managed to grab at the reins and sooth the stallions nerves by stroking his nose.

"Its Roger...its Lieutenant Athos' horse." he yelled.

The others glanced at each other with perplexed shrugs.

"So where is Athos? asked a curious Brujon

oOo

"Very well Tréville...I want to know of any developments, even the slightest inclination."

Tréville and his men bowed in unison.

"Certainly your majesty."

Louis and Anne swapping glances as the musketeers turned on their heels and vacated the room.

oOo

Tréville and his men vacated the royal chambers swiftly and began their saunter across the grand hall.

The musketeer captain found himself scanning around in search of his lieutenant once again as he noticed a gathering of courtiers gossiping and laughing gleefully in groups.

"If Athos has gone straight to the tavern after his visit to the Bastille, I shall have him on stable duty for a week." he growled.

Aramis suddenly felt an unease wash over his very being as he slowed down his pace. The marksman turning to Porthos and d'Artagnan in turn, his features that of both curiosity and alarm.

"You told him to meet us here captain, Athos would never defy an order." he declared.

Porthos and d'Artagnan were both nodding in agreement.

"Aramis is right...I don't like this...it's not 'im." growled the big musketeer, his face forming a deep frown of worry.

Tréville knew Aramis was indeed right, his mind was already aware of that, something was niggling in the back of his head.

"The Bastille is mere minutes ride from the Palace Captain...he should have been here before we left the Cardinal's chamber." commented d'Artagnan walking towards the large windows and peering towards the paddock.

All eyes turned to the older man as he scanned the entrance willing Athos to appear in the doorway. He suddenly turned to his men.

"Come...we shall go to the Bastille."

oOo

**Palace Stables and Courtyard.**

The musketeers sped across the paddock towards the stables. d'Artagnan suddenly noticing Brujon riding at a gallop towards them. He nudged Aramis on the arm prompting the others to glance up.

The young cadet suddenly leapt from his mount and had begun running towards Tréville and his men before the horse had properly halted.

"What is wrong lad? yelled the musketeer captain as he eyed the boy.

Aramis and Porthos caught each others worried glances.

"Captain...it's Lieuenant Athos' horse Sir...it returned to the garrison alone."

"WHAT? WHEN? demanded Aramis.

Brujon turned to the marksman.

"About ten minutes ago...I came straight here to inform you." answered the cadet.

"Dear God...I should never have permitted him to go alone." sighed Tréville running his fingers through his hair before replacing his hat.

"Them two red guard he spoke of...he was suspicious of them was he not? asked d'Artagnan as he mounted his horse.

Porthos clenched his fists, his jaw twitching with sudden enrage as glanced at his brothers.

"If they 'ave 'urt 'im...I'll rip them apart with me bare 'ands." he growled.

Aramis turned back to Brujon.

"Are you certain the horse was not lame, Athos could have been thrown from his saddle?

Brujon shook his head.

"The farrier checked him over, he was fine." came the worried answer. "I was looking out for him on my way here...I saw nothing."

A moments silence washed over the musketeers as they each absorbed the news of their missing brother, before swiflty mounting their horses.

Tréville steered his mount and eyed each of his men.

"COME!...we will find him." he growled. "Brujon...go back to the garrison incase he goes there."

The cadet nodded as he put his foot into the stirrups and climbed onto his own horse.

"Yes Captain."

oooooOOooooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Hope you all had an awesome Christmas, I am tired of food now.**

**Yes I know another cliffy! I am such a bitch...sorry.**

**Thanks again for your lovely comments, love them all.**

**Hope you all have a fabulous New Year, I will speak to you again in 2020.**

**Have Fun**

**Pippa xxxx**

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	15. Chapter 15

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Fifteen.**

The loud thud and bang reverberated off the thick steel doors as Porthos' clenched fist hammered three times.

"OPEN UP! we are the kings musketeers! he growled loudly.

Tréville and his men swapped both perturbed and disgruntled glances as they heard the rasping sound of the bolts as they were yanked and tugged across the portcullis.

The large door finally creaked open, two red guard stood glaring as Tréville and his musketeers without hesitation pushed their way in past the two perplexed men.

"What is the meaning of this Captain Tréville...we were not aware you and your men had been summoned." seethed the taller guard.

"Evidently! murmered d'Artagnan quirking both brows.

Tréville turned and eyed the guard, ignoring the mans pleas.

"Musketeer Athos was here was he not? he asked hoarsely.

Aramis stared at both men in turn as he caught the enraged frown of Porthos.

The two guards exchanged curious glances.

"We have been on duty for almost an hour, we have not seen your musketeer Captain." answered the shorter man.

Porthos suddenly grasped the man by the top of his red cloak, the big musketeer had clenched his jaw tightly, his features that of incensed enrage.

The guard winced as the cloak ties became tighter around his neck.

"If any of you scum 'ave 'urt our friend, you will both be meetin' yer maker sooner rather than later."

Aramis grinned scornfully as he glared at both men, he put a hand on Porthos' shoulder and looked from one guard to the other.

"My friend here...is a man of his word, I have seen men pulled apart for less, so if you know where we can find our friend, now is the time to tell all."

Both guards turned as they felt an uneasy presence behind them, finding a peeved d'Artagnan impeding any exit through the doors. He gave the two men a wry smile as they turned back to Porthos and Aramis.

"NOW! would be a start." demanded Tréville.

"I swear...I have not seen musketeer Athos." croaked the guard who was still struggling in Porthos tight grasp.

Porthos glared before releasing his grip on the mans neck.

Aramis's face was deep in thought as he glanced at both guards. He moved closer to them as though scrutinising them in turn.

"The two guards that were on duty yesterday morning...where are they now." he queried.

The shorter man looked the marksman in the eye.

"I do not know their names...I heed they are new...probably at the red guard barracks awaiting their next shift." he replied.

Aramis and Tréville swapped curious glance.

A sudden movement and the sound of footfalls prompted all eyes to glance around as Captain Venell appeared around the corner. He halted in his steps as he stared at the musketeers before averting his eyes to his two guards.

"What in hells name is going on here Tréville, I can hear your mens demanding voices all the way from my office chamber. I might ask why your musketeer asks the whereabouts of my men?

The two guards gathered their composure swiftly as Venell eyed them up and down.

Tréville turned around and faced the red guard captain, his face that of both anger and frustration as he glared at the man.

"Maybe you can aid with our plight Venell, musketeer Athos is missing, the last time we seen him he was on his way here, we have not seen him since then."

"Hence, his horse returned to the garrison alone." added Aramis.

Venell could feel all eyes on him as he caught his guards shrugging shoulders.

"So you thought you would interrogate my men as you see fit Tréville? he sneered. "I have been here since early morning...I myself have not seem your missing musketeer."

"No one just vanishes into thin air." commented d'Artagnan.

Venell turned to the Gascon and grinned mockingly.

"Tell me...have you tried the local taverns or brothels...he is probably lying on one of the dirt ridden floors somewhere...DRUNK, afterall we all know he likes a bottle or two."

Aramis pushed past Tréville and grasped at Venells tunic collar, only to be impeded by the older man, as he pulled the medic backwards.".

"Who are you to slander our friend when you know nothing about him? growled the marksman.

"ARAMIS LEAVE IT! yelled Tréville.

Venell glared at Aramis and scoffed loudly as he shot an amused glance at his two guards.

"Your men are becoming rebellious Tréville...if I were you I would have him court- martialled."

Aramis glared at the man before turning away, he felt Porthos' comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I have one of my men missing Venell, I am not leaving here without searching this HELL HOLE!. And as for rebellious men, take a look in the mirror."

Venell clenched his teeth with rage as Tréville groused.

"Do what you will...and then take your leave musketeers! he seethed.

"Maybe you can answer our question Venell." asked Tréville suddenly.

Venell glared at the musketeer captain.

"WHAT QUESTION? he seethed.

"The two guards on duty yesterday morning...where can we find them?

Venell felt his stomach churn slightly, Durand had recruited them both, they had sailed from England with him. If Durand knew the musketeers were to find that out he knew he would be dead.

"I am not in the habit of watching my mens every movement, when they are off duty they are free to do as they so please." he answered sardonically.

Tréville eyed him before turning to his men.

"d'Artagnan! you will accompany me to the red guard barracks." he ordered. Aramis! Porthos! you two search the Bastille and all the passages. We will meet back here in an hour...GO!

The musketeers nodded the order as they went their two seperate ways.

Aramis picked up a torch from its sconce enabling the two men to light their path as they went.

ooooo

Loud yells and shrieks reverberated off the cold stone walls of the cells as Aramis and Porthos meandered down the spine chilling beseeching cries of mercy was enough to make anyone mad. Rats scurried around cell doors in search of scraps each one squeaking and chattering.

Aramis held up the torch as he noticed a vacant cell and finding nothing but discarded sacking rags and soiled calico sheets. The reeking odour emitted into the already thick stenched air. The marksman carrying on to the next cell, he almost reared backwards as a thin dirty hand reached through the barred gate and spat out saliva towards the medic shreeching out obscenites. Aramis stared at the prisoner for seconds before continuing his meander down the passageway.

Porthos sauntered along the opposite side as he too searched for his missing brother, he turned a corner nearly colliding with a red guard, the big musketeer realised he had noticed the man on several occasions in the palace and suddenly grinned.

"I was wonderin'...I don't suppose you 'ave seen Athos, he came here hours ago and 'asn't been seen since."

The guard shook his head as Aramis appeared around the corner. "Im afraid not musketeer...why was he here?

Porthos turned as Aramis appeared.

"That is not foremost at present my friend." answered the marksman swiflty. "We are just eager to find him."

The guard shrugged his shoulder and shook his head once again.

"My apologies gentlemen...I have not seen him. If I stumble across him I shall infrom his you are looking for him."

Both Aramis and Porthos nodded his reply.

The guard acknowledged both men before moving on his merry way.

Porthos sighed aloud, he could feel the trepidation beginning to take hold in the pit of his stomach as he turned to Aramis.

"I am not liking any of this mon ami...I 'ave a bad feelin' in me stomach."

Aramis nodded slightly, he knew exactly what his dear friend meant.

"Come lets try down this way." he answered. "Lets hope the captain and d'Artagnan have better luck."

ooooooo

**Red Guard Barracks.**

Captain Tréville and d'Artagnan had dismounted and began their short walk towards the Barracks Gatehouse. Mocking grins and nudges from groups of guards were evident as both musketeers ignored the jibes and sneering glares.

The sentry on the gate gave both men a curious look.

"It would seem you are both out of your own domain musketeers, what brings you here? asked the guard.

Tréville scanned his surroundings as he paused in his tracks.

"I would like to speak to your superior officer, if you would be so kind to summon him."

The guard eyed the older man before opening the gate allowing both musketeers access.

"Captain Chabot is in his office chamber...I shall take you bith there myself." came the reply.

Tréville and d'Artagnan exchanged dubious glances, both men on the same line of thought and not expecting to be treated with courtesy.

d'Artagnan couldn't help but smile as they were led into the building.

oo

**Captain Chabot's**

**Office Chamber.**

"How long has your man been missing Tréville? asked Chabot as he sat back in his chair and ran his fingers through his unruly locks.

Tréville eyed him, he could never comprehend why the red guard had two captains, another one of Durands idiotic notions.

"He left for the Bastille first light...he has not been seen since...I have two of my men searching the Bastille as we speak."

Chabot cleared his throat and sniffed.

"I fail to see what has this got to do with the red guard? he interjected.

Tréville shot a glance to d'Artagnan then back to Chabot.

"Two of your men were on duty yesterday morning at the Bastille...I would be most obliged if I could indeed speak with them, they were the last ones to see musketeer Athos."

Chabot averted his eyes to d'Artagnan who hadn't taken his eyes off the red guard captain before looking back at Tréville. He suddenly stood and approached a wall chart that contained names.

Tréville and d'Artagnan stood and followed him to the chart.

"Yesterday morning you say." queried Chabot as he ran a finger down the list.

Both Tréville and d'Artagnan watched as Chabot's finger suddenly paused.

"Ahh yes...the two new recuits a James Pagne and Ned Wade." he declared turning to Tréville.

Tréville frowned at the names, he had heard some strange names in the past but these did not sound French, apart from Ned. Maybe he was thinking too much into it."

"When were these two men recuited Chabot? asked the musketeer captain eagerly.

Chabot re-took his seat and sat back.

"Cardinal Durand had them commissioned a week ago, just after he returned to Paris from England.

Tréville glanced up instantly on heeding the statement.

"DURAND?... are these men English?

Chabot glared.

"French...they are French...why would he recuit Englishmen...they hate us. It would never be permitted."

"Because that is what he does, he is a conniving and scheming renegade, just like Richelieu was." seethed Tréville.

"You should watch your words Tréville, you slander our cardinal so." said Chabot sounding agitated.

"I want to speak with these two men Chabot...now would be a good time."

"I wish I could help you Tréville...but they are on Palace duty as we speak."

ooooOOoooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Happy New Year to you all, hope you all enjoyed letting in 2020.**

**I know! we still don't know what has happened to Athos, but we shall find out in the next chapter...I promise.**

**Thank you for all your comments, love them. I hope you will continue to read.**

**Speak soon**

**Pippa xxxx**

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	16. Chapter 16

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Sixteen.**

Daylight was beginning to wane as heavy clouds gathered, gusty winds blew across the open fields of long unkempt grass and bracken. The tall trees rocked back and forth with the heavy squall. The forest on one side had become an eerie silence as the birds had found their roosts in preperation for the approaching nightfall. The strong winds howled as they channelled through the spinney.

The small abandoned house was a state of ruin and neglect as weeds and plants grew from the stone walls and decaying window frames. The eaves had rotted away as they swung in the wind slamming into the masonry. The wooden door was decrepit with what seemed like a recently used padlock.

The interior was as delapitated as the outer, an aged table that had seen many a meal time was full of wood lice and old now dust ridden crockery. Old splintered chairs lay strewn across the rat invested floor. Piled up kegs lined the walls on either side, kegs that were evidently gunpowder. A thick shackle had been knocked into the floor that held a long heavy chain, it led into the corner of the chamber were the moaning body of Athos lay propped up against the cold wall as his eyes flickered open. Manacles had been locked around his ankles and wrists, dried blood from an eye wound had run down his face and neck, his open doublet showed the blood stains on his shirt from what may be a blade wound. Athos trying his best to catch his breath before wincing in agony from his injuries, the wounded musketeer tried to sit up straight as the pain shot through his body making him hiss, darkness was upon him once again as he succummed to the torment, his head slumping to one side.

oooo

**Royal Palace.**

Captain Tréville and his men strode across the main hall floor, their booted footfalls reverberated off the walls as they went. The four men paused as they turned the corner into the passageway, three red guard who had found some amusement in what one of them had said suddenly looked up and become silent as they eyed the musketeers.

Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan glared at the men as Tréville approached them slowly.

"I am looking for two of your comrades gentlemen...maybe you would be so kind to inform me as to where I can find them? asked the musketeer captain.

The three guards swapped perplexed glances as Tréville asked his question.

"What do you lot want with us? smirked one of the guards.

"ANSWER THE QUESTION! growled Porthos stepping forward and almost touching the mans face with his own.

"And it is Captain Tréville to you." added Aramis.

"So answer the captain NOW! demanded d'Artagnan vehemently.

The red guards exchanged seething glances.

"What be their names? asked another.

Tréville eyed him closely.

"Ned Wade and James Payne...I was informed by your Captain Chabot that they are on duty at present."

"Oh them two...they are new...keep themselves to themselves...two very strange dogs if you ask me." replied another guard.

"So where are they now? asked Aramis.

"Outside the Cardinals chambers...that is where I seen them ten minutes ago." answered another.

Tréville glanced back at his men before turning to the guards.

Thanking you gentlemen." he said as they turned to leave.

Porthos glared as he walked past the guards.

"Now that wasn't too difficult was it? he murmered with a quirked brows.

The guards watched as the musketeers walked away, shrugging their shoulders at each other with curious glances.

oooo

Athos' eyes opened with a start as he moaned through the pain he endured, he could feel the bile burning his throat as he moved, the swordsman strived to get his body some alleviation from the agony he felt from the slightest movement, his breaths coming in gasps as he winced before finding some slight comfort against a piled up load of sacks.

The wounded musketeer slowly scanned his surroundings as he became aware of his wrists and ankles shackled tightly, so tight his wrists bled, he lifted his head as he noticed the kegs of gunpowder lined up against the delapitaed wall.

His mind wandered as his thoughts drifted back to the Bastille.

_The two guards on the entrance, the two he had told the others about, how their behaviour seemed different from the rest of the red guard regiment. There was something odd about them, I don't trust them, It has to be them who brought me to this place._

Athos averted his eyes back to the gunpowder. He winced again as the pain shot through his side. He was not one for praying but now was a time he felt useless to help his brothers bring down Durand and his associates.

_If I am to be blown to pieces God, I implore you to help my brothers arrest Durand and his rengades. I am not a praying man, but I care for my brethren._

Athos felt cold this time, he began to shiver, he could feel himself becoming weaker with the loss of blood, he did his best to reach for a sack and press it hard against the wound. The injured musketeers eyes caught what was akin to a broken arrow on the dusty floor. The swordsman stretched his leg out as he tried with all his might to reach it, the chains rattled along the dirt ridden ground as he moved his feet, before the agonising pain shot through his body making him gasp out loud. Athos paused for a moment as the pain waned slightly before he made another attempt, the toe of his boot reached it as he stretched once again, sweat beaded his face as he drew up his leg towards himself, he had it. Thoughts shot through his mind in seconds as he scrutinised the arrow. It was a potential key to his freedom if it fitted the shackle locks, something Porthos had shown him only a year ago.

ooo

**Cardinal Durand's **

**Office Chambers.**

Aramis craned his neck around the large pillar at the end of the passageway to the Cardinals chambers, he eyed the two guards as they stood either side of Durands offfice, even though they stood on sentry duty he could tell they were in converse with each other. d'Artagnan joined the marksman as they peered around the pillar.

"That be them...I remember their faces when I went with Athos to question them." whispered the Gascon.

Aramis turned as Tréville and Porthos joined them.

"How do you want to do this captain." he asked.

"Your certain that is them d'Artagnan? murmered the older man glancing at the Gascon.

d'Artagnan nodded.

"Oh indeed...I never forget faces of deceit captain."

"Very well this is what we do."

ooo

**Palace Crypt.**

The two Englishmen had not seen it coming as they were suddenly seized and bundled down the stone steps into the underground crypt. Porthos and d'Artagnan held onto Ned Wade whilst Tréville and Aramis took James Payne.

Porthos shoved his arm into Ned Wades throat prompting the man to gasp for air.

"I will not ask again...where is Athos." he pressed. "What 'ave you done to 'im...TELL ME! he growled. "Or I'll rip yer bloody 'ead off its shoulders."

d'Artagnan held tightly onto his arms as he struggled.

"ANSWER HIM...where is Athos? seethed the Gascon.

"Maybe you will tell us." smirked Aramis as he toyed with his main-gauche at James Paynes adams apple.

James Payne clenched his teeth tightly as he struggled with Tréville and Aramis.

"I do not know what you speak of." he hissed hoarsly. "Why would we know where he is."

Tréville was becoming enraged as he glared at him.

"Your both liars...you were the last ones to see him when he arrived at the Bastille...do not try to deceive us, it will not work."

Porthos was pratically eye to eye with Ned Wade as he forced his arm into his throat even more.

"I will give you one last chance...NOW WHERE IS OUR FRIEND AND COMRADE! he pressed.

Ned Wade opened his mouth as he tried to speak, his eyes beginning to bulge with the sheer strength of the big musketeer. A warning quirk of the brow from d'Artagnan prompted Porthos to slacken his arm making the Englishmam cough up his guts.

"WELL? growled d'Artagnan.

Wade spat out saliva and lifted up his head as he glanced across at his associate who was receiving the same torture.

"We have not seen your comrade since we were relieved at our post at the Bastille."

Aramis still held the blade at Paynes throat as he heeded Wades answer. The marksman put his mouth to the mans ear and smirked as he unsheathed his rapier.

"I do not believe you...I think you are both working for the Cardinal." he murmered.

Tréville glared at both men before turning to his men.

"Very well they leave us with no other option gentlemen...OPEN THE CRYPT!

The three musketeers nodded the order as they approched the largest stone crypt.

Tréville aimed his pistol at the two Englishmen as they sat in a heap on the cold ground catching their breath. They both glanced up as the slow scraping and rasping sound reached their ears.

Porthos, Aramis and d'Artagnan pushed with all their might at the heavy stone crypt, their features that of clenched jaws and wide eyes as they thrust with all their physical strength once again, the stone scraped slowly as it moved ajar.

The gasps and heaves of the musketeers echoed around the darkness of the walls as they persevered against the crypt opening.

Both James Payne and Ned Wade swapped aghast glances as they watched what was about to become their demise.

Tréville stifled a grin as he watched their features change to dread and horrified glances.

Porthos suddenly appeared in their sights.

"Right...on yer feet...now...yer new restin' place be ready for yer."

Ned Wade swallowed hard as he turned to Tréville.

"This is barbaric Tréville...there is no air in there...how are we supposed to survive in such a place?

Aramis and d'Artagnan swapped quirked brows, both musketeers wanting to laugh out loud.

"How long will it be before the air runs out Aramis? asked Tréville.

Aramis moved towards the two despairing men and scratched his head deep in thought.

"Looking at the size of the crypt captain...I would gauge maybe two hours. The final minute is the worst I heed, so maybe you should both pray before hand."

The two mens features had turned ashen as the thoughts raced through their heads.

Porthos and d'Artagnan both seized both men and nudged them towards the crypt.

"Once the door is closed, we will seal it, you won't be heard by anyone who comes down here, the stone is a foot thick." said the Gascon to adding to the horror.

"You won't be too lonely in there, there is already three lots of bones in there." murmered Aramis wryly.

The two Englishmen swapped glances as they were pushed inside.

"WAIT!...if we tell you where he is...do you swear we will receive passage back to England? implored Ned Wade.

James Payne glared at his comrade.

"You fool...what are you saying?

Ned Wade shook his head.

"I am not dying in there...why should we...this is all Durands doing." he seethed.

Tréville felt the rigidity leave his tensed up shoulders as they spoke of Durand, he had always known he was involved, but proving it had become somewhat arduous to say the least.

"I am swearing nothing gentlemen...not until you take us to Athos."

"And remmeber." growled Porthos. "If he is 'urt in any way...I'll 'ang yer meself."

Aramis nodded and frowned as he cast a glance at Wade and Payne.

"He never breaks a promise."

Both men were tethered before they were roughly handled up the stone steps from the crypt.

oo

Unaware of his presence Cardinal Durand had heard every word as he stood concealed behind a pillar. His face that of enrage as he swiflty scurried along the passageway towards the back of the palace, knowing he had to act fast.

oo

Cardinal Durand paced up and down as he tarried in wait in the palace dungeons, his robes billowing out and swirling with his every move, he turned sharply as he heard the door creak open. The murdered Madame Anons two companions move swiftly down the steps.

"You are both tardy gentlemen." growled Durand.

The two men swapped glances.

"We came as soon as we received your message your Eminence." came the answer.

Durand waved a hand to hush the man.

"You both know where they have taken Musketeer Athos do you not? he pressed.

"We do your Eminence."

"You will go there now...I want rid of these musketeers, you will start with Athos, light the fuses to the kegs. There will be nothing left of him to find."

"What of the others your Eminence." asked the second man.

"Kill them as you see fit, including the two Englishmen, it seems I have been betrayed."

The men caught each other glances.

Durand turned as he thought.

"GO...NOW! do not fail me gentlemen...or you will be spending the rest of your days in The Bastille."

Durand watched as the two men ran towards the doors and disappeared up the steps.

oooOooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Sorry for the late posting, had a hectic couple of weeks with one thing and another.**

**Hope you are all well and still enjoying the saga.**

**Well they are going to blow up the old house that Athos is held in. Will the boys get to him before they do.**

**Will try and post earlier next week.**

**Take Care folks**

**Pippa xxx**

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	17. Chapter 17

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Seventeen.**

_Noise...footsteps...who are these...voices...getting louder. _Athos was suddenly awake as he scanned his surroundings, the two men, who were they. They were not the two from the Bastille. _I...know. these men...the two associates of Madame Anon._

The swordsman clenched his teeth in pain as he felt a sudden kick to the ribs followed by a scornful laugh, he wanted to throw up, he felt dizzy, _they are stacking up the kegs of gunpowder._

One of the men grinned as he turned and eyed the injured swordsman.

"You will be put out of your misery very soon muskereer...once this lot go up you won't know a thing about it, you will just be bits of nothing."

The other man snorted with ackowledgement as he turned to his comrade.

"Make haste, and pile them up high...we need to make certain there is nothing left for them to find." he ordered. "Tréville and the others will be here shortly."

Athos felt for the arrow at his side, his eyes averting to the two renegades as he reached for it, his vision becoming indistinct, he squinted his eyes again clearing the foggy shapes before him, he watched them as they continued to lay the fuses.

"That should do it." said the taller of the two as he uncliped his pistol and lit the flintlock.

"You better start yer prayin' boy." he smirked as he turned back to Athos.

The swordsman glared with a clenched jaw as he gasped through the pain in his side.

"GO TO HELL! he growled.

Both men began to chortle out loud.

"I do believe that is where you may be going musketeer." snorted the smaller man.

Having made a trail of fuses around the house the two men vacated at the back entrance closing the door behind them. The sound of horses hooves galloping faded away as they rode off.

Athos was breathing in gasps as he watched the flame travel towards the kegs. He twisted the arrow between his fingers as he endeavoured with all his might to reach the shackles. The smell of matchlock fumes filled the air as he struggled, the manacles so tight around his booted ankles the leather was congealed in blood, his hands shook with sheer cold and agitation as he twisted the arrow in the lock chamber around his ankles, the sudden stretching had made him bleed again, blood absorbing into his shirt.

ooo

Captain Tréville and his three men galloped through the trees as fast as their steeds allowed. Ned Wade and James Payne having succumbed to their dilemma and yeilded. The two men thinking they were about to be given passage back to England, his three men knowing full well that was never going to happen, not if the king had anything to do with it. All he wanted now was to get to Athos. The two Englishmen having informed them of his whereabouts.

Tréville came to a stop and held up his hand to halt the others as he noticed the house in the distance across the fields.

"That be the 'ouse! yelled Porthos as they came to a stop.

"It used to be a farm years ago...I remember it when I was about twelve." commented Tréville. "Been neglected for some time."

"I cannot imagine you being twelve captain." grinned Aramis. Prompting the others to laugh.

Tréville shrugged off a grin and quirked a brow.

"Come...lets go and free Athos and take him home."

ooo

Athos twisted and turned the arrow end in the lock chamber, his eyes keeping watch as the flame travelled along the fuses. His breaths becoming laboured as he gasped through his pain, his head was now throbbing, he felt like throwing up his entire stomach contents. His hands began to tremble as he endeavoured to unlock the shackle to no avail, his eyes fixed on the fuse flames as they slowly continued towards the gunpowder. Sweat had now beaded his face as he gasped and grunted to free himself.

ooo

The musketeers lept from their mounts and had tethered their horses to a large oak tree. The field had become a muddy mire, making it difficult for the animals to even trot let alone gallop.

"We will leave them here, the last thing we need is the horses becoming stuck in the mud." suggested Tréville.

Aramis took his medical bag from his saddle and threw it over his shoulder. The marksman didn't want to think what state they would find their friend in.

"Let us hope you will not need that." said d'Artagnan as they trudged through the mire.

Aramis sighed with a nod. "I pray you are right mon ami."

Porthos looked from one to the other, his features that of disgruntled dread.

"If they 'ave 'urt 'im bad...I'll kill 'em meself." he growled.

"Join the queue my friend." added Aramis patting his friends shoulder.

"The house is a somewhat hovel." commented d'Artagnan as he scrutinised the surroundings.

Tréville nodded. "They say the farmer killed himself after his family were slaughtered in cold blood by Spanish soldiers.

The musketeers swapped sorrowful glances with each other as they plodded the muddy terrain.

That instant the ground shuddered, as a hot blast emitted into the surrounding fields throwing the musketeers backwards off their feet, splintered wood, shards and cinders rained down onto the ground swirling in the air as lit embers and fragments spewed out in all directions. Black smoke plumes billowed outwards as the sudden blast ceased leaving what was once a dilapitated farm house into a heap of burning remnants and ash. Burning shards and splinters still fell from the sky.

A sudden silence enveloped the field and surrounding, nothing moved, just the sound of burning wood crackled in different parts of the open grounds.

The musketeers lay still, remnants of charred pieces of wood had scattered over the four mens bodies as they lay sprawled in the grass and mud.

oo

Aramis was first to rouse as he coughed and spluttered. The marksman wiping the bits of ash from his face, tiny splinters hung from his hair as he checked for the others.

Porthos and Tréville began to move followed by d'Artagnan. The Gascon also coughing up his guts as he tried to sit up.

The initial dazed shock waned swiftly as they became suddenly aware of what had happened. The four men stared wide eyed towards what had been a house, the beams still burning.

Aramis gasped out loud with despair as he rushed towards the burning embers.

"AAAATTHHOOSSSS! he shrieked. His voice breaking as he yelled. "NOOOOOOO!

Porthos grabbed the marksman before he got to the house. Aramis struggled with him to no avail, both men breaking down into tears as they slowly fell to their feet.

"He's...gone...Mis...he's gone! whispered Porthos as he held his weeping friend.

d'Artagnan sat on the grass, his head resting on his knees as he too wept openly, his shoulders shook as he choked and gasped.

Tréville stood rigid to the spot as he watched the remnants burn. His face was ashen, the lump in his throat was too big to swallow as he succumed to his own grief and sorrow.

He had lost one of his inseperables, he had lost the young man he thought of as a son, his lieutenant, his forward planner, the rational one. Was he about to wake up from a nightmare and see Athos sparring in the courtyard. Tréville had closed his eyes tightly, he opened them as he realised the the true, the tears still flowed down his face, the charred remains still burned. Athos was gone.

oooOOooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**I know, a tear jerker. Sorry!**

**Hope you will still continue to read. **

**Thank you for the comments, love them.**

**Speak soon.**

**Pippa xxxx**

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	18. Chapter 18

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Eighteen.**

Captain Tréville shuffled with the toe of his boot as he peered among the embers. He slowly scanned around the scorched remains before his eyes fell on the charred remains of what looked akin to a sword, Tréville crouched down on his haunches and reached into the ash. He could feel the heat through his gloved hand as he picked up the weapon, the sword that had belonged to Athos. The lump in his throat began to form again, he instantly became aware of Aramis watching him. The marksman took it from him and looked at it, his lips tightening with emotion as he wiped away the ash with his fingers, he could just about make out the inscription, Oliver de Athos.

Aramis swallowed hard as he spoke, his voice breaking in mid sentence.

"His...favourite sword...he...said it always brought...him luck."

Porthos walked up behind the marksman noticing the weapon his friend held.

"Didn't bloody work this time did it." he growled. "I'll skewer the bastards for this...and God 'elp anyone who stands in me way."

Aramis squeezed the big mans shoulder and nodded.

Tréville had bent down as he noticed the charred and blackened manacle restraints.

"They must have...shackled him...look." exclaimed the older man aghast prompting Aramis and Porthos to turn and join him.

Porthos had clenched his fists obliviously as he glared enraged at the scorched chains that had held his friend against his will. His jaw twitched as swallowed the lump in his throat.

Aramis put his hand to his face and ran his fingers through his hair. He shook his head in anguished torment as he blinked away moisture from his eyes, his mind thinking about Athos, the torture he must have felt knowing what was happening.

The marksman reached into the folds of his shirt for his crucifix and kissed it, before muttering a prayer.

d'Artagnan scanned around the still burning embers, the Gascons eyes resting on what looked like the remains of a charred boot, he crouched down picking up the mangled hide, the foot of the boot had come away from the scorched leather. d'Artagnan felt like he wanted to throw up as his eyes filled with tears spilling down his face.

"This is pure evil." gasped the young musketeer as he swung around facing the others, he still held the remains of the boot in his hand as Aramis approached him, both musketeers falling into each others arms and weeping openly.

"Shuuuuuushh...shuuushh." whispered the marksman as he cradled his younger brothers head.

Porthos shook his head in disbelief as he hit out at one of the charred beams with his clenched fist, the big musketeer growling in frustration and rage.

Tréville inhaled as he watched his men become grief stricken, something he had never witnessed before,apart from when Aramis lost his comrades in Savoy, he had seen them annoyed, he had seen them deal with losing men in battle, even when one of them was wounded, the others not leaving their brothers side until they were satisfied he would recover. He had seen alot of mixed emotions over the years they had been in the regiment. But this was something else, one of the inseperables had gone, would they ever be the same again.

Tréville wiped the back of his hand over his tear stained eyes and glanced across at his men.

"We should return to the palace, we need to inform the king of this woeful deed."

The three musketeers slowly followed the older man across the muddy terrain towards the forest where they had tethered their mounts. Aramis carrying Athos' sword at his side. Each man lost in his own world of sorrow as they trudged aimlessly across the scorched field.

oooo

**Palace**

**Royal Chambers.**

Queen Anne gasped as she reached for her silk hankerchief and dabbed her eyes. Captain Tréville and his three despondent and grief stricken musketeers stood in a semi circle as their leader declared through broken voice what tragedy had befell Athos.

"Dear God, I cannot believe such sorrowful tidings gentlemen, Athos was a very fine musketeer, such an honourable man, I am most distressed."

The king was pacing the ornate floor, his hands clasped tightly behind his back as he went. His head lowered.

"I want these men found Tréville, I will not have such heinous and barbaric torture inflicted upon my elite guard."

"We already have two in the garrison cells your majesty, the two men I informed you about, the two we need to apprehend are Madam Anon's associates, they are the ones who were ordered to light the fuses killing Athos."

"May I ask who ordered such an evil act? asked Louis pausing in his tracks.

Tréville caught glances of determined resolution from each of his men, their faces said it all. Whoever had committed such an act would truly be executed by them alone.

"We will indeed endeavour to find out your majesty...we will not rest until the perpetrators are brought to justice."

The king turned to the musketeers, his features that of pallid and sorrowful anguish as he glanced from one to the other.

"I am deeply saddened by such a deed gentlemen, I truly pray you will all find some solace and comfort and think of Athos and the times you have had with him with great acclaim, he was indeed a fine and worthy musketeer, he shall be truly missed."

Aramis felt like he wanted to collapse into a heap and sob as the king spoke, he could feel the sorrow emitting from his brothers. Porthos stood rigid, a proud gaze on his face at having known Athos. d'Artagnan closed his eyes for a couple of seconds as he thought of Athos sparring with him in the Garrison courtyard, he swallowed hard to abate the lump in his throat.

Tréville wanted to yell out loud in enrage at losing the young man he thought of as a son.

"I shall pray for him at chapel." murmered Anne softly.

The men bowed in acknowledgement to the young monarches..

"Thank you your majesties." was spoken in unison from each musketeer before they turned to leave.

oooo

The bloodied hands gripped the long neglected grass as he tried desperately to drag himself along the damp ground, his breaths coming in gasps as he felt every agonising bump and lump in the terrain. His bare feet blue with the coldness of the now pouring rain. Lightning ripped the dark sky in two followed by the loudest clap of thunder. He wanted to throw up, he was too weak to walk, his side felt like a hot sword had skewered him as he clenched his teeth and endured the pain. He suddenly paused to catch his breath and slowly looked up, his soaking wet hair obscuring his view across the ridge. Was that a road ahead, he could just make out a horse and cart as an elderly man piled it up with small chicken coops, he could hear the chirping clucks as he persevered to drag himself towards the road.

oooOOooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**I know...such torture. Sorry!**

**Thank you for your brilliant comments I appreciate the time taken to post, means alot.**

**Well well...what next? **

**Hope you stay with the drama.**

**Speak soon**

**Pippa xxx**

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	19. Chapter 19

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Nineteen.**

**Garrison Cells.**

The two Englishmen exchanged irresolute glances before looking up towards the cell door as it scraped open, the rasping sound reverberating down the passageway. That instant movement and scuffle from Porthos prompted both men to stagger backwards against the stone wall as he grabbed a man in each hand around the throat.

"ATHOS...IS DEAD...BECAUSE OF YOU TWO BASTARDS." growled the big man, his loud roaring voice resounding around the stone walls.

James Payne gasped for breath as he attempted to speak.

"We informed you...where he was...it was not we who lit the fuses."

Porthos gripped Payne by the scruff and pulled him towards himself. The man wincing in discomfort.

"You won't get away with this...I'll make certain of it. I'll cut yer bloody 'ead off...you murderin' scum."

Ned Wade moved forward away from the wall only to be thrust back with force again by Aramis as he shoved the man into the masonry.

Wade was red faced with a clenched jaw as he glared at the marksman.

"Did you not heed what was said musketeers, we did not light the fuses that killed your friend."

"But you would have done if we had not apprehended you both, do not try my patience." seethed Aramis. "You are just as much to blame for this and will be tried for the murder of a kings musketeer."

Ned Wade was suddenly thrown to the dusty ground by Porthos as he stood enraged, his eyes filling with seething rage as he clenched his fists with a crack of the knuckles.

"You told us we would receive passage back to England...you cannot go back on your word...the king will not permit it." gasped the Englishman as he attempted to get to his feet.

d'Artagnan grabbed him by the collar and glared into his face.

"WE LIED! said the Gascon through clenched teeth." And as for the king...he wants you both executed forthwith."

"You cannot do this musketeers, you vowed we would return to England." said James Payne massaging his throat and wincing.

Captain Tréville suddenly joined his men, the older man walked into the cell and glared at the two men.

"We vowed nothing...as my men have said...you will both be executed."

"We did not kill your musketeer Tréville...this is a travesty of justice." seethed Ned Wade.

Tréville glanced at his men before averting his eyes back to the two Englishmen.

"Who were you both working for? he suddenly asked. "And do not even endeavour to lie."

James Payne was breathing hard from the sudden melee.

"We are not working for anyone...it would seem your notions are lame captain."

The musketeer captain became suddenly enraged as he eyed both men, he knew damn well they were working for Cardinal Durand, he just wanted to heed them declare it. He needed the proof for the king.

"You expect me to believe that? growled Tréville. "Why else would you be in France...you sailed over with Cardinal Durand from England did you not? and suddenly receive commission into the red guard regiment."

Both Englishmen stood hesitant, each one hoping the other would reply.

"ANSWER THE CAPTAIN! roared Porthos.

"You may have journeyed on the same galleon, but it doth not mean we are working for him." replied Ned Wade. "The Cardinal was somewhat impressed with our soldiering skills...that is all."

Aramis smiled wryly and shook his head as he walked towards both men.

"Your folly is quite a tale gentlemen, but alas my comrades and I do not take kindly to such yarns do we my friends." Aramis glanced back at his brothers before averting back to the Englishmen. "You both knew where Athos was being held."

"Hate fairytales...never enjoyed them as a child." said d'Artagnan sardonically.

"Me neither." growled Porthos staring at both men. "Always get the truth in the end...especially when it's 'elped along with some punches, and a noose around yer neck."

Tréville sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair and glanced up at his men.

"Come gentlemen...we will return later."

"You cannot just leave us here to starve to death." yelled Ned Wade as the musketeers turned to leave.

Aramis glared scornfully back at both men.

"You left our friend alone without food and water, you left him there shackled in manacles knowing what was going to happen, I would say that is torture...what would you call it?

Porthos slammed the cell door shut with such force it created dust to swirl up from the ground.

"GO TO HELL! he growled. "By the time I 'ave finished with yer both, you will be pleadin' with me to let you starve."

oooo

The rain had abated slightly, thunder still rolled in the distance as the storm waned.

The elderly man tugged at the leather straps over his cart and tightened it over the chicken coops making certain they were secure before wrapping them over with woven flax.

He suddenly paused in his task, the sound of gasps from the field behind had prompted him to grab his pistol from the horses pistoleer and turn rapidly.

The man stood rigid as he scanned his surroundings seeing nothing but the swaying trees and long grass, his eyes casting downwards as he noticed what looked akin to someone attempting to crawl through the meadow. The elderly man slowly approached, his pistol gripped in his right hand as he peered through the bracken.

Athos had halted in his attempt to move, the pain searing through his body like a hot blade, his bloodied hands gripping the grass as he gasped in short breaths. The injured musketeer suddenly felt a warmth on his shoulder, he managed to lift his head slightly seeing two pairs of woven calico clad legs.

"Young man...you are wounded...who are you? Who pray has afflicted such a heinous deed upon you?

Athos could hear the voice, someone spoke, he gasped again for breath. He felt someone turn him on his back and hold his head, he felt water trickle into his dry sooty mouth, it felt cold, it felt good. He heard the voice again as he squinted his eyes to look, the face was a white shape, the mouth was moving but he couldn't hear. Who is this, have my brothers come, the water again in the mouth, his breaths laboured as darkness enveloped him.

oooo

**Garrison Dining Chamber.**

A silence had enveloped the whole chamber as the musketeers sat in their own world of grief stricken musings.

d'Artagnan stared into the embers of the fire grate as Serge threw on more wood logs.

Aramis sipped from his wine goblet and pushed his untouched ham and bread away. The marksman even noticed his big friend had not even eaten much.

Porthos poured ale into a tankard and drank.

"I miss the boy already...he made me titter with his highbrow wit." murmered Serge as he joined the musketeers at the table.

Aramis nodded slowly as he glanced up at the elderly veteran.

"He was a man of few words Serge, but when he spoke we all listened."

Porthos wiped his hands over his face and swigged some ale.

"Yeah...we did...made me chuckle a few times, he didn't even know he was jestin', he would look at me wonderin' why I was laughin'."

The others nodded agreement.

"In the last year that I have known him he had taught me alot, I felt like I had known him years." commented d'Artagnan, his voice almost breaking in mid sentence.

Aramis squeezed the young Gascons shoulder to comfort him and poured him some wine.

"It don't seem fair...I've lived all these years." sniffed Serge. " He was only a young man, his whole life in front of 'im."

"You cannot think that way Serge...you taught us all when we were cadets." growled Porthos. "Athos wouldn't want yer to feel like that."

That moment Brujon entered the dining chamber, bottle of brandy in hand.

The musketeers hardly noticed the young man as they sat musing.

Brujon placed the bottle on the table and shot a glance at each musketeer.

"Compliments of Captain Tréville...I would imagine you all need it. I am finding it hard to believe I won't see Lieutenant Athos again."

The boy swallowed hard as Porthos opened the bottle and poured some in a cup for the lad.

"Ere...get that down yer boy." he said handing the cup to Brujon.

"The captain won't be happy if I drink on duty." murmered the cadet.

Porthos filled everyones goblets.

"You 'ave an excuse...now drink! ordered the big man. "The captain's mind is on other things at present."

Aramis picked up his goblet and stood, his eyes glazed over with emotion as he held the ornate glass up high and glance around the table.

"To Athos...our brother...our comrade, you will live in our hearts forever mon ami."

Everyone had stood to their feet.

To Athos filled the chamber in unison as the musketeers drank to their lost brother.

oooooOOooooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**You are all so kind with your comments, thank you so much.**

**I can imagine you are all wondering what is coming next, will the elderly man find out who Athos is and return him to the Garrison.**

**Will update ASAP!**

**Speak soon**

**Pippa xxx**

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	20. Chapter 20

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Twenty.**

**Flashback...**

Captain Venell stood swiftly, he was suddenly disturbed from his paperwork by a low thud and what sounded akin to gasps. He opened his office chamber door and peered down the passage to see the two new guards dragging someone along the ground.

"Prey tell me...what is going on here? he yelled.

The two guards paused and swapped iritated glances as they let the motionless body of Athos fall to the ground. Both men turning instantly.

Venell approached them in the dimly lit passage, he picked up a torch from the wall sconce and scrutinised carefully noticing Athos' pouldron on his arm.

"What happened to him? enquired the red guard captain with a perplexed frown.

Ned Wade sniggered.

"He got in the way captain...you know the Cardinal wants rid...we are merely giving him a helping hand."

Venell stared into both mens haughty features.

"Are you both insane? as soon as the musketeers know he's missing they are going to come searching for him. You do know it is treason to kill one of the kings elite guard."

Ned Wade shook his head and grinned.

"They will never know it was us captain, we will be back in England before they realise what time of day it is."

James Payne glanced down at Athos' unconscious body then back to Venell.

"We already have plans prepared Captain...we will take him there now, they will never find him, once he's gone we capture another."

"You cannot keep him here, they will search the entire Bastille, they are not ones for giving up on each other, the four of them stick together like resin.

Ned Wade smirked.

"Do you not think we know that, we need to leave now, we are squandering time."

Venell sighed aloud, he knew Durand hated the musketeer regiment, he also knew there was something about these two guards, always seemed to be with the Cardinal, the same two that he suspected of killing Deacon Arouet.

"I will not hang because you two reprobates want to keep good terms with Durand." he sneered.

Ned Wade grinned with a quirk of a brow as he shot a glance at James Payne.

"Reprobates you call us...we are merely following orders dear captain that is all, I suggest you permit us to go about our business before Tréville and his men are upon us."

"Everyone knows that uniform...he will stick out like a ripe orange.

"Please Captain...you insult our intelligence." sniggerd James Payne.

Athos suddenly began to groan prompting three pairs of eyes to look down at him.

"He's rousing." said Wade reaching for his pistol and striking the butt over the back of the swordmans head.

Athos fell motionless once again.

"Get him out of here NOW! demanded the red guard captain.

Venell watched as the two men both lifted Athos by an arm each dragging him towards the tunnel entrance they used to take out the dead.

oo

Athos' eyes twitched slightly, his lids slowly blinked before opening. The pain in his head was a thumping dull pain. The swordsman closed his eyes tightly and winced as he peered though his foggy vision. Footfalls...loud...at least two pair. Athos squinted as he persevered to move, he couldn't, his arms seemed fast, his legs heavy. The sound of scraping chains as he tried to shift to no avail. He could feel the warm blood trickling down the side of his temple.

"Ah your awake musketeer Athos, I do hope you had pleasant dreams, afterall they may be your last." declared James Payne as he stood staring down at the helpless swordsman.

Ned Wade suddenly joined his friend and sniggered at his comrades comment.

Athos winced again, his head felt like it would explode.

"What is it...you want... with me? he gasped.

Ned Wade pulled up an overturned dusty wooden chair and sat.

"Oh its not just you...we aim to rid France of the entire musketeer regiment. As soon as you are dead we will go after another and then another." he sneered with a snort.

Athos forced a wry smile as he tried to sit up.

"That seems rather a sizeable undertaking given their are only two of you, but something in my aching head is telling me you are both involved in Madame Anon's murder and are probably working for...

"James Payne suddenly gripped the swordsman by the hair and glared into his face before he finished his sentence.

Athos clenched his teeth with rage unable to move.

"I was told you musketeers think you are the paragon of all regiments, but by the time we have finished with you, you will be nothing more than scraps for the starving rats."

Payne shoved the musketeers head back against the wall as he let go of his grip, he suddenly thrust his fist into Athos' stomach making the swordsman gasp and gulp. He pulled Athos's head back again practically touching distance and seethed into his face.

"By this time on the morrow musketeer you will be ashes in hell."

"I knew there was something about you two from the moment we met, you are both English are you not, you came to France on the same galleon the Cardinal voyaged on."

"You do not miss a trick do you, your inpeccable knowledge becomes you, pity you will not be using it anymore musketeer." seethed Ned Wade.

"And do not think your comrades will come...by the time they have worked out where you are, you will be nomore." sniggered James Payne.

Athos watched as the two men suddenly vacated the dismal chamber leaving the shackle keys on top of the kegs, scanning his surroundings, he realised one of the shackles on his left wrist had not locked properly into the haft as he fumbled with the manacles, the swordsman had his left hand free, he checked the door again, he could just make out the voices of the two men as they drank wine. Athos endeavoured to slide his body towards the gunpowder kegs without letting the chains rattle along the floor. Keeping his eye on the door he tried to stand, he had to reach the keys. The voices continued to drink and chortle. Sweat had beaded his face as he struggled to get to his feet to reach the keys, his breaths were laboured.

That instant the swordsman felt the blade in his side as Ned Wade came at him throwing him to the ground with a thud. He was swiftly joined by James Payne as the two men once more shackled the swordsman down. Athos was panting for breath as blood oozed from the open wound.

"You do not give it up do you musketeer, maybe you will bleed to death instead, try to escape again and I will kill you here right now." goaded Payne.

"Why tarry...get on with it." panted out Athos.

"We would rather you suffer first." sniggered Ned Wade.

The swordsman could feel himself becoming weaker with loss of blood as he pressed his hand as close to the wound as he could.

"We will leave now, but do not fret dear Athos, we shall return very soon, we do not want to miss the firework spectical." sniggered Ned Wade. The door slammed behind them.

Athos felt addled and befuddled as he grew weaker, darkness once more enveloped him.

oo

_Voices...footsteps...two sets...they have returned._

The swordsman felt a kick into his ribs as he roused again. His head was pounding again.

_Madame Anon's two associates , why are they hear, where are the Englishmen. They are laying fuses, am I to be blown to kingdom come?_

Athos fumbled with the bolt he had found in the dust, his trembling hands striving to unlock the shackles to no avail. He could hear the mens voices as they lay the fuses, he glanced up at the four kegs that sat piled up in front of him, the fuses leading from each one. The swordman winced in pain as he suddenly felt the click of his wrist manacle, it was open.

"LIGHT THE FUSES NOW! yelled one the men. "Lets get out of here."

Athos struggled with the bolt in the other shackle, his head was pounding, his vision becoming foggy again. His side was burning with agonising throbbing pain, he had to get free to warn his brothers of the impending danger. Click...his other hand was free. He gasped and winced as he stretched towards his ankles to pick at the haft. The swordsman averted his eyes towards the fuses as they travelled slowly towards him, he turned back to the shackles, another came free from his ankle, his breaths once again laboured as he continued, his bloodied hands still trembling as he hissed through the toment. He strived with the lock, it came open, he was free. The manacles had torn through the leather on his boots. Athos kicked them off before beginning to crawl towards the door, his eyes catching the travelling fuses, it was too late to extinguish them they had practically reached the kegs, besides their was too many to even count, the swordsman tried to stand, he was too dizzy. The fuses dear God...he crawled and grabbed at everything as he slid along the ground, he was practically at the door. Blood trailed along with him as he moved, Athos slowly pushed at the door, it scraped on the floor as it opened. He took one last look at the fuses, they had reached the kegs. He strived and tugged at anything to aid his crawl as he was now outside, a sudden strength seemed to gain on him as he threw himself into the long brachen before the the loudest blast erupted around him. Athos lay on his stomach, his arms over his head as fragments and splinters rained down over him, the ground seemed to shudder as he lay motionless.

**End of flashback.**

oooo

Aramis sat on the wooden steps half way up from Trévilles office chamber. His elbows leaning on his knees he rested his head on his hands, he sat deep in pondering thoughts, his features bereft as he stared into nothing, his mind unable to except his beloved brother Athos was gone. The whole garrison was in despondent mood, everything seemed different. The marksman scanned his surroundings as he noticed d'Artagnan sat at their favourite table, the young Gascon sat motionless with a hand clasped around a wine goblet. Porthos sat opposite, the big musketeer poured ale into a tankard and swigged a mouthful back, his face was filled with crestfallen anguish. The entire courtyard was an eerie silence, the cadets had ceased sparing in respect of their fallen comrade. Even certain market traders had even left posies at the gates having heard the tragic tidings.

oo

Musketeer Lucca stood on sentry duty with Brujon when the cart pulled up at the gates. An elderly man turned his head and glanced up at the archway. He slowly climbed down from the front perch and approached the gates.

Lucca eyed the man curiously as he cast a glance to Brujon.

"What be your business Monsieur? he asked swiftly.

The old man picked up a package from his seat and handed it to Lucca.

"I believe this belongs to one of your musketeers." said the man.

Lucca and Brujon swapped perplexed glances.

Lucca took the package that was wrapped in calico cloth, the musketeer unwrapped it, his face suddenly becoming ashen as he stared open mouthed down at what looked akin to Lieutenant Athos' pauldron.

Brujon's eyes widened as he looked from the pauldron to Lucca. Both men dumbfounded.

oooOOooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Apologies for the cliffy!**

**Thank you all for the fabulous comments, you are all very kind, love them. They make me want to write more.**

**I will update ASAP!**

**Speak soon**

**Pippa xxx**

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	21. Chapter 21

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Twenty One.**

Musketeer Lucca glanced at the elderly man with a frown screwing up his brow.

Brujon stood eyeing the man with curiosity.

"Where did you find this Monsieur." asked Lucca.

The old man cleared his throat and wiped a hand across his white beard.

"This is the musketeer garrison is it not? he enquired.

"That it is monsieur...I have already stated that." answered Lucca sounding iritated. "Now please...where did you find this pauldron?

Porthos glanced towards the gates at the sound of Lucca's dogged persistence.

_Probably another trader attempting to sell his wares. Lucca has never liked them._

The big musketeer stood and slowly approached the gates. He could see Lucca holding something.

Having noticed Porthos, Brujon swiftly met him half way across the courtyard.

"I think you need to see this Porthos Sir." murmered the young cadet making the big man furrow his brows with curiosity.

"What is goin' on 'ere? growled Porthos prompting Lucca to turn swiftly.

"This man found what...looks akin to Athos' pauldron." answered Lucca handing the big man the wrapped leather.

The old man twirled his long beard in his fingers as he approached his cart.

Porthos felt like he wanted to throw up as bile entered his throat. "Where did yer find it? he growled.

The old man pulled back the sacking covering that hung over his cart revealing what looked like someone swathed in fleece blankets. Porthos, Lucca and Brujon eyed him carefully, each sharing perplexed glances.

The elderly man pulled back one of the blankets and turned to Porthos.

"It belongs to 'im, I believe he may have been attacked and left for dead."

Porthos's eyes widened with both exhilaration and shock as he stared down at an unconscious Athos. The big man felt his own breaths coming in gasps, he felt slightly light-headed as he swallowed the bile that had come into his throat. Tears had welled in his eyes, turning rapidly he yelled into the courtyard.

"Arrrrraaaamiisssss! d'Artttttagggnann! reverberated around the courtyard. Prompting other musketeers and cadets to pause in their tracks.

Aramis jolted from his musings as his head shot upwards, he stood swiftly as he jumped down from his sitting position four steps up and began to meander towards the gates.

d'Artagnan put down his goblet as the marksman walked past him and shot him a perplexed glance, the Gascon stood and followed him in close pursuit.

Aramis stared at Porthos, his big friend looked almost jubilant and full of joy as he eyed him.

"What is going mon ami? asked the perplexed marksman.

"ATHOS...it's ATHOS...'ES ALIVE...'ES ALIVE..MIS...'ES IN THE CART...'ES ALIVE...THIS MAN FOUND 'IM!

Aramis' features had turned suddenly pallid as he glared at his big friend in inconceivable exultation, his trudge towards the gates had become a sudden rush of movement. His guts feeling like he would throw up as his stomach churned with the sudden elation, tears spilled over and streamed down the marksmans perplexed face as he absorbed Porthos' jubilant words.

The marksman grabbed the big mans arm and squeezed with delight, both men wiping tears of joy with their sleeves.

"Thank the Lord...thank the Lord." whispered Aramis kissing his crucifix.

d'Artagnan stood open mouthed as he put a hand to his face and beamed.

"Dear God...I cannot believe this is happening. How did he get out of there?

Porthos curled an arm around his younger brothers shoulder and nodded his head with glee.

"This is bloody typical of 'im...a fighter through and through." he chortled. "Nothin' stands in 'is way."

Aramis turned to the old man who had been watching the jubilation and spectical from the three musketeers, he patted the mans shoulder and shook his hand, the sheer relief and gratefulness evident on his handsome face.

"Where did you find him monsieur? he asked suddenly, his modus operandi and medic taking over. "How long has he been unconscious?

Porthos smiled at his friend.

"One question at a time Mis...you're beginning to ramble like a fishwife."

Both him and d'Artagnan chortled, the comments going unheeded.

The old man looked at the medic.

"I found 'im in the meadow, he looked 'alf dead the lad, I was fearin' he would be dead before I reached the garrison, soon as I seen his pauldron I knew he was a kings musketeer. I managed to give 'im some water before he passed out."

The medic gave the man a knowing smile and nodded slightly.

"You did good Monsieur...thank you."

d'Artagnan grabbed the man and embraced him, the elderly man let out a slight chortle.

"You are akin to an angel Monsieur, we will not forget it."

The elderly man snorted with a grin and shook his head.

"I only did what I hope anyone would have done." he murmered.

Aramis had jumped onto the cart and was checking his wounded brother. Blood had absorbed over what was once a white shirt. His wrists and ankles were congealed in dried blood and sores from the manacles. More blood had matted into his hair from another wound. The medic was feeling around his brothers head finding a large lump and a gash over his eye.

Aramis shook his head in disbelief and anger.

"He's lost so much blood...we have to get him into the infirmary forthwith...dear God...he has suffered badly. He's been skewered with a blade, the bastards have worked on him alright. I fear this head wound too, we may need Lemay for this."

Porthos and d'Artagnan's demeanour had rapidly changed as they watched Aramis examine their wounded brother.

"Dear God...look at his wrists and ankles, the manacles have cut through his skin." gasped d'Artagnan becoming angry.

Porthos' features had turned enraged as he clenched his fists with vexation..

"Someone will die for this." he growled.

Aramis turned to his big friend and patted his shoulder.

"If you would be so kind mon ami, I need to get that wound stitched hastily."

The big musketeer didn't need asking twice as he swifly scooped Athos up in his arms and began his fast trudge across the courtyard.

Aramis turned to one of the cadets.

"Fetch doctor Lemay forthwith Ned...he has a bad head wound."

The cadet nodded and was gone in an instant.

Groups of musketeers and cadets stood around gossiping as the good tidings spread.

"Brujon...find the captain and ask him to come to the infirmary." ordered d'Artagnan patting the boy on the back.

Brujon nodded and ran off.

"You did an admirable deed Monsieur...you will be rewarded...our captain will want to speak with you." said Aramis turning to the elderly man.

The man shook his head slightly.

"I did not do this for rewards gentlemen...I am just pleased I found him when I did...I just hope the young man will recover well." he murmered.

Aramis eyed him.

"Athos is strong...he will be well cared for now."

d'Artganan smiled.

"You must be hungry after your journey Monsieur...come you must eat something."

"I really should get back home before dark." replied the man.

"You can stay until the morn rises Monsieur." said the Gascon.

The man smiled.

"Very well young man...I accept your generous hospitality."

oooo

**Garrison Infirmary.**

Aramis and Porthos had gently washed the dried blood from Athos body as they prepared him for the stitches. d'Artagnan had brought fresh linen and had made up a bed for his brother. The three friends each with his own deed and task to aid their wounded brother, each one still going over what had just transpired in his own head. Aramis suddenly paused and glanced at his friends in turn. Porthos becoming aware, stared at his friend.

"Mis...what is it? he asked curiously.

d'Artagnan glanced up.

Aramis turned back to Athos and stroked his hair away from his face, he bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead. The tears had returned as he looked from Porthos to d'Artagnan.

"We have our dear brother back, he is alive, God spared him, it was not his time...this is truly splended gentlemen."

The three men approached each other and embraced into a huddle. Before turning back to their duties, each one wiping their dampened eyes.

That moment the door swung open prompying the musketeers to glance up.

Captain Tréville stood on the threshold.

"What is so paramount you summoned me so swiftly to the infirm...

...Tréville suddenly halted his words as he stared into the chamber before casting his eyes towards the table, he slowly entered as he noticed what was his lieutenant laying unconscious. His face had become an ashen and incredible unbelieving bearing as he shot a glance to each of his men. He felt like he was in a fog, he had to sit.

"Dear God...how...who...where did you find him...how did he escape?

The words came all at once as the older man wiped a hand over his eyes and sat on the edge of one of the beds, he felt like he would stagger if he stood again.

"It would seem he has a guardian angel captain." answered Porthos.

ooooOOoooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Thanking you all so very much for your kind comments, I really was so happy to read such lovely words. I appreciate the time you have taken to write them. **

**Well at last they have Athos back, and how serious are his injuries?**

**Will Tréville and the boys bring down the cardinal and his reprobates.**

**What will happen to the two Englishmen now.**

**And what will the king make of everything now.**

**Speak soon**

**Pippa xxxx**

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	22. Chapter 22

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Twenty Two.**

**Garrison Infirmary.**

Bowls of hot water had been demanded by Aramis as he set out his suture roll and bandages, the marksman becoming his usual pragmatic self as he tied an apron around his waist and began his immediate medic mode. Cadets had carried in the water and placed the bowls down, everyone had his given task to do. Bottles of wine stood in a row on the table in preperation for the use to clean Athos' wounds.

Tréville watched as Aramis began to stitch the wound in Athos' side, his mind was a turmoil of questions and perplexed thoughts. He could hear the medics voice giving orders as he stitched jolting him from his musing shock at seeing Athos alive. The last couple of hours had been a grief stricken and bereft affair for himself and his men, all thinking they had lost their beloved brother. He was even more determind to bring down Durand and his associates. How was he going to inform the king that one of his elite guard whom he thought dead was in fact alive. Tréville just hoped he stayed that way.

"Pour more wine onto the wound please Porthos." came Aramis' order as he continued to sew through his friends skin.

"It is somewhat a blessing he remains unconscious, he would be in so much agony right now Mis." growled the big musketeer as he did as he was asked.

d'Artagnan winced as he wrapped Athos' wrists in muslin cloth, he felt for his brothers agony as he moved to his ankles.

"The steel has cut right through his skin...it must have been torture for him" gasped the Gascon pursing his lips as though feeling his friends pain.

"Put ample balm on the abrasions d'Artagnan, they are very raw from the tight manacles." ordered Aramis as he shot his younger brother a swift glance.

"Tell me, he will be alright." inquired the Gascon suddenly nodding in agreement.

Aramis glanced up for a split second as the young man posed the question before continuing with the deed of sutures.

"Its the head wound that troubles me more, that is why I summoned Lemay...speaking of which he should be here very soon.

Tréville ran his fingers through his hair and stood, he moved towards his men as they attended to their brother. Each one wrapped in his own thoughts as they followed instruction from Aramis.

d'Artagnan turned his head and gave his captain a comforting smile.

"Who found him? asked the older man.

"An elderly farmer, found him in the meadow, not far from the old house he was being hold up in." answered the Gascon. "He brought him back in a cart having noticed he was a musketeer."

" Dear God..he must have fought through tooth and nail to aid his escape, I was convinced he was dead." growled Tréville averting his eyes to his lieutenant.

Aramis glanced at his captain knowingly.

"That's our dear Athos...never yields." he said.

Porthos and d'Artagnan both smiled in agreement.

"Where is this farmer now? asked Tréville.

"He is in the dining chamber having something to eat, he wanted to go home before dark, but we asked him to stay." answered Porthos. "We thought you may want to speak with him captain."

Aramis quirked both brows in acknowledgement towards Tréville as his friends answered his questions. Having finished his fine needlework the medic reached for the muslin bandage.

"If you could lift him for me Porthos whilst I bind this around the wound?

Porthos swiftly lifted Athos under his armpits as Aramis bound the wound.

"I wish 'e would wake up." growled the big man.

"He will." murmered the medic. "He will."

oo

Athos was soon dressed into a nightshirt and was laying on his back in a clean bed, the blankets pulled up to his chest. Aramis put a hand to his brothers forehead checking for fever before reclaiming his seat next to the bed.

That moment the sound of footfalls on the stone ground prompted the musketeers to glance up.

d'Artagnan was up in an instant, pistol in hand as he opened the door to see doctor Lemay approaching the door.

Lemay smiled slightly as the Gascon lowered his weapon.

"I believe my services are required gentlemen." he said walking through the door.

Aramis stood at once as Lemay set down his medical bag and surveyed the unconscious swordsman.

"I thank you for your prompt arrival doctor, Athos has a head wound, I fear it maybe beyond my knowledge."

Lemay eyed the medic and smiled slightly.

"How long has he been unconscious? he asked moving to Athos' bedside and feeling around the swordmans head.

"According to the man who found him, I would say about four hours now." answered Aramis.

Porthos and d'Artagnan swapped perturbed glances.

Tréville watched as Lemay lifted each one of Athos' eyelids and checked his pupils.

"He has certainly had a nasty knock to the left side above the temple." murmered Lemay as he parted Athos' hair finding the lump, I am somewhat gladdened by the fact it was not the top of his head gentlemen, that may have proven fatal in the coming hours."

The four men exchanged worried glances as Lemay continued his examination.

"Will he be alright? asked Tréville sounding strained.

Lemay knew they were waiting for him to give them good news, he knew them well, they were the inseperables, like brothers, one went down, they all went down.

"The longer he is unconscious the more I will become somewhat concerned, not forgetting the amount of blood he has lost from the sword wound, which I may say Aramis you have done a splended job with the sutures."

All eyes turned to the marksman, Porthos patted his friend on the back and winked.

"I only did what I had to do, I just pray it is enough." murmered Aramis unassuming.

"You always do an admirable job Aramis." said Tréville.

"When he does wake up, I fear he will have an agonising headache gentlemen, I will leave you ample laudanum, to be administered every four hours." said the physician taking a small jar from his bag and handing it to Aramis.

The marksman nodded.

"Thank you doctor, I will make certain of it."

Lemay scrutinised the swordmans ankles and wrists and shook his head.

"Who does this to another...in all my years of medical science, wonders never fail to cease. The balm should be ample to aid the recovery, keep an eye on his wounds, the last thing we need is an infection setting in...that would indeed lead to fever."

"Do not fret doctor, my men will not leave his side." murmered Tréville shooting a glance to each man.

Aramis helped Lemay to re-cover Athos with the blankets, Lemay putting the back of his hand to the swordmans brow and nodding.

"He remains cool for now, but as you say captain, I have every confidence in your men watching over him."

Lemay reclosed his medical bag and glanced towards the bed.

"I will take my leave now gentlemen, I will be at the palace if you need me again, If he wakes before dawn pray summon me gentlemen, if a fever takes hold keep him cool with cold cloths...besides I know you will do all this Aramis...you know what you are doing."

Aramis smiled.

"Do not fret doctor, I will not leave his side."

"None of us will." growled Porthos.

Lemay chortled.

"That I do believe, you are all very honourable men indeed."

Leamy walked to the door and nodded his departure.

"I bid you all good evening gentlemen."

He nodded towards Tréville.

"Captain."

Tréville eyed him.

"I will walk you to the gates doctor." said the older man opening the door.

oooo

**Palace Crypt.**

Cardinal Durand paced the floor, his breaths emitting into the cold air of the crypt as he went, his robes billowed and swirled as he moved.

Madame Anon's two associates stood rigid to the spot as he cursed at them both.

"You have been fools, oafs, you have killed one musketeer, what of the rest? You leave them to roam Paris, Tréville will not let this lie, he will be on a mission. I have been betrayed once, there will not be a second time...DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?

The two men looked from one to another for an answer, none came.

"They retuned to the garrison cardinal, they have guards on the gates, how are we to gain entry to such a place."

Durand turned suddenly.

"They will no doubt return to the palace on the morrow, you will have your chances then, when I say I want them dead, I mean all of them...including Tréville. Now get out of my sight, I cannot bear to look at you both for a moment longer."

Both men turned on their heels, disappearing down the passage into the darkness.

Durand clenched his teeth and fists, his knuckles turned blue a he seethed with rage. He whispered out loud into the darkness of the crypt.

"You infernal musketeers...I will have my day...when they bury you all together."

oooooOOooooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**You are all so kind with your words and comments, thank you so much. I love reading them all so much.**

**Well is Athos out of the woods yet?**

**Will the two associates achieve the orders given by Cardianl Durand?**

**Or will Captain Tréville actually bring him down.?**

**Speak soon**

**Take Care**

**Pippa xxx**

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	23. Chapter 23

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Twenty Three.**

Blood orange hues began to light up the sky as dawn arrived over Paris. The garrison torches had practically burned down to the wicks having lit up the courtyard through the night. The stable boys had risen and busied themselves in their tasks of grooming and feeding the horses.

The elderly man and Tréville stood at the garrison gates. The night had been eventful for the old farmer having said his goodbyes to the musketeers, each one grateful and beholden to the man, promises of visits to his farm when their dear brother had recuperated.

"I thank you captain for your most generous hospitality, I must say your cook has surpassed himself, my stomach is most satisfied."

Tréville smiled at the mans comments.

"It is I who should be thanking you Monsieur, you saved my musketeers life when we all believed he had perished in the blast."

The old man began to tack up his horse and clip the long reins to his cart, his wrinkled features turning into a slight smile.

"I am just glad I came upon the young man when I did, otherwise I fear he may have died out there in the open wilderness."

Tréville ran his hands through his hair and nodded knowingly, they had all grieved for Athos, everyone convinced he had lost his life, having been captured and tortured by reprobates whom he was adamant were working for Durand. The two Englishmen still locked in the garrison cells.

"Well like I have said, I appreciate what you did Monsieur, as soon he is well enough I am certain he will want to thank you himself."

The old man climbed up onto his wooden seat and glanced back at the musketeer captain.

"I did what I expect anyone would do for someone who is clearly injured, I am indeed pleased he lives."

Tréville smiled as he watched the man grasp the reins.

"You never told me your name Monsieur." he inquired lifting his face and eyeing the man.

The old man turned to Tréville.

"Bennart Duquette, my late father left the farm to myself and my wife, she died of the family disease ten years ago, I have farmed alone ever since, I breed fowl and sell to market traders, it pays my dues."

Tréville sighed with a sorrowful grimace.

"I am most sorry Monsieur, I am certain she would be proud of what you have done."

Bennart glanced up to the the heavens and smiled.

"You are probably right captain." he murmered hoarsely. He shook the reins and nodded to Tréville.

"I will take my leave, I do hope your musketeer makes a full recovery anon."

Tréville turned to two of his guards and gestured to them to open the gates. The two men leaped into action instantly.

"Take care on the road Monsieur." said Tréville as the cart rattled over the ground.

The musketeer captain stood rigid to the spot as he watched the cart disappear around the corner and out of sight.

oooo

**Garrison Infirmary.**

The low sound of breathing emitted around the infirmary as Porthos and Aramis slept in beds adjacent to their injured brother. d'Artagnan sat in a chair next to Athos as he lay unconscious. They had all taken their turns during the night as each man sat with the swordsman, hoping and praying their brother would wake up. The Gascon suddenly dropped his head jolting himself awake, his eyes shot open as he stared at Athos, he had practically fell asleep. He leaned over his brother and felt his brow, he was still cool, that at least was something. d'Artagnan turned swiflty as he heeded a muffled yawn, Aramis was sitting up and stretching his arms above his head.

"Morning Mis." murmered d'Artagnan.

Aramis reached for his boots and began to pull them on.

"Morning my friend...how has he been? any movement?

The Gascon shook his head.

"No nothing...he is still cool though, do you think we should call Lemay again?

Aramis stood and moved towards Athos' bed. The medic also feeling the swordsmans forehead.

"I shall give it another few hours, if there is no change I will summon him forthwith."

d'Artagnan nodded with a yawn.

Aramis patted his younger brothers shoulder.

"Go and sleep mon ami, you are exhausted." he whispered as not to wake Porthos.

d'Artagnan gave Aramis a slight grin as he got to his feet.

"I will not argue with that." he murmered. "Rouse me if he wakes."

Aramis poured water into a cup and drank it back.

"Do not fret...now go and sleep." ordered the medic.

The Gascon sat on the edge of one of the beds and pulled off his boots, he was practically asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Aramis lifted his injured brothers shirt and checked the wound, it did not seem infected, he was glad about that, the last thing they needed was fever taking hold. The medic winced as he noticed the bruising around his friends torso, brusies that had developed over night, yes he had been beaten badly aswell as skewered.

The medic glanced up as Tréville suddenly entered the infirmary, the older mans eyes falling upon his lieutenant.

"Any change Aramis? he asked in low tones.

Aramis shook his head slightly as he sipped more water and placed the cup down.

"Head injuries are indeed most complex captain, if he has not roused soon I will summon Lemay again."

Tréville nodded in agreement as he sat opposite his medic.

"Did our dear friend make his departure? asked Aramis smiling slightly.

Tréville nodded.

That moment both men glanced up as Porthos inhaled loudly and yawned.

"Mornin'...is 'e still not awake?

Aramis sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"I am afraid not mon ami, but he is not with fever, that is something to be glad for."

The big musketeer sauntered bare footed towards the chamber pot to relieve himself behind the screen.

"What are we going to do with them two English bastards captain? emitted from behind the screen.

Tréville quirked both brows.

"That is up to the king Porthos, I am going to the palace in a couple of hours to inform him of Athos.

The big man emerged from behind the screen and scrutinised Athos as he lay still in the bed.

"The king will find it 'ard to believe, I thought I was seein' things when the old man arrived with 'im."

Aramis looked from Tréville to Porthos.

"I want to know where them other two reprobates have got to, they were the ones who lit the fuses."

Tréville stirred.

"I have men out looking for them, do not fret, we will find them, as long as Durand is around the more chance we have of apprehending them."

"Just give Porthos ten minutes with them captain." murmered Aramis covering Athos with the blankets and shooting the big man a quirked brow.

"Don't tempt me! replied Tréville vehemently.

"Five minutes would be ample growled Porthos clenching his fists obliviously. "Noone does this to 'im and gets away with it."

"Don't worry mon ami, they will receive the punishment they all deserve." murmered Aramis glancing back to Athos.

oooo

**Royal Palace.**

Tréville walked swiflty towards the royal chambers pausing in his tracks as he perceived Lucca and Pierre, both men standing to attention as the older man came to a halt in front of them.

"Did you find any trails from the two louts whom evaded capture? asked the musketeer captain.

Lucca swapped glances with Pierre before answering.

"It would seem they were on foot captain, my guess is they left their horses in the nearby forest and walked to the old house."

"The trails just vanished Sir, but Claude, Victor and Jules are keeing watch on the house they were residing in before Madam Anos was murdered." added Pierre.

Tréville nodded.

"Send word as soon as there is any developments, we must find these reprobates swiflty...and keep on your guard men, these two do not stop at anything."

Both musketeers nodded the order, they turned rapidly, their blue cloaks swirling with them as they went.

oooo

The king turned on heeding Tréville's arrival, the young monarch was pouring wine into an ornate goblet as the musketeer captain approached.

"Ahh Tréville there you are, what is it you wanted to discuss? inquired Louis appearing perplexed."

Tréville bowed.

"Your majesty!

Louis gestured towards the wine bottle for the older man to help himself. Tréville didn't need telling twice as he poured himself a full goblet and began to sup.

The king reclaimed his seat and swigged more wine, he scrutinised Tréville with a creased brow.

"Pray do sit Tréville, have your men apprehended the two accociates of Madame Anon yet?

Tréville took a swig of wine and glanced up at Louis.

"Not as yet your majesty, but I have ample men out searching, we will hunt them down, they will not evade capture a second time." growled the older man.

The king nodded before taking another sip of wine. He knew Tréville stood resolute when it came to apprehending hoodlums.

"Glad to hear it Tréville, I knew I could always rely on my elite guard."

Tréville suddenly glanced up at Louis's beaming features.

"Athos is alive Sire!

The king slowly put down his goblet and stared into Tréville's exhausted features. His smile waning, the monarch's brows becoming lined as he frowned in disbelief.

"What are you saying man...your musketeer has come back from the dead, is he some kind of sorcerer?

Tréville stood, he had to, he looked over the palace gardens and turned back to Louis.

"He managed to escape the blast before it took hold, he is badly injured from a beating and is at present still unconscious in the infirmary. Found wounded by a farmer who stumbled upon him in a meadow."

The kings eyes widened with bewilderment.

"Will he live?

"I hope so Sire, doctor Lemay was summoned, musketeer Aramis is a fine medic, I have every faith in him to do what he can."

"Indeed Tréville...doctor Lemay is an excellent physician, he will guide Aramis as he sees fit."

oo

Both the king and Tréville were unaware of Cardinal Durand as he heeded every word spoken, having found the plans to the palace, he stood behind the secret passageway of the kings private chambers observing through the ornately patterned decor at the two men as they spoke openly.

Durand clenched his teeth with enrage as he listened. What was it with these damn musketeers, they seemed immortal. Richelieu had spoken of them in the same tone, calling them the perpetual musketeers.

_But you will not overthrow me Tréville, by the time I am finished with your schemes, you will not have any musketeers left to order. _

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Hope you are all well.**

**Thanks again for your very kind reviews, they are awesome.**

**I cannot believe how fast the weeks seem to be going. Spring is almost upon us.**

**Well will Athos pull through?**

**And what has Durand got up his sleeve?**

**Will the two reprobates evade capture?**

**I may be slightly late in posting next week, work commitments I'm afraid.**

**Stay well!**

**Pippa xxx**

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	24. Chapter 24

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Twenty Four.**

The musketeers sat around the table in the middle of the infirmary, having eaten breakfast together. The old veteran Serge was collecting bowls and plates, he paused in mid flow and glanced at Athos as he lay motionless in the bed.

"I 'ope the lad wakes up soon, I am makin' me chicken stew for dinner...I know he favours that." he growled.

The others glanced at the older man as he murmered the words.

Aramis followed his gaze and nodded with a slight smile.

"Let us pray the pleasing smell will rouse him Serge."

Porthos drank ale from a tankard and smacked his lips.

"Sounds good to me Serge, I'll 'old me bowl under 'is nose, that will suffice."

d'Artagnan grinned.

"Worth a try maybe...but I really wish he would wake soon."

Aramis heeded his friends banter with slight hesitancy, he so wanted Athos to rouse, the longer he remained unconscious the longer he became worried, maybe now was the time to summon Lemay.

" I loathe head injuries, so complex...maybe it is time to fetch our excellent physician."

o

That moment the musketeers glanced up at one another as a sudden loud tumult and disruptive din emitted from the courtyard prompting Porthos and d'Artagnan to grab their pistols and bolt towards the door.

Serge glanced towards Aramis who had also grabbed his pistol.

"Serge stay with Athos, lock the door behind me...do not let anyone enter."

Serge nodded as Aramis buckled his swordbelt on and shut the door behind himself.

Aramis peered towards the gates to see a man being led into the courtyard, his hands tethered to a horse. He noticed Claude and Victor approach Porthos and d'Artagnan.

Aramis quickened his swift walk as Porthos suddenly brought up his fist and knocked the man to the ground growling obscenities.

"You bastard you lit the fuses, you tried to kill Athos...I'll rip yer bloody 'ead off...

The mans mouth oozed blood as he was knocked to the ground cowering away from the big musketeer.

"PORTHOS! STOP THAT NOW! suddenly reverberated around the courtyard.

Everyone turned to see Captain Tréville as he entered through the archway into the courtyard, he swiftly dismounted his horse and handed the reins to one of the stable boys.

"He will receive punishment...but not like this." he growled.

Porthos stood almost statuesque, his fists still clenched as he glared into his superior officers face before catching Aramis and d'Artagnans glances.

Tréville approached, his eyes fixed on the man on the ground.

"Who is this? he asked turning to Claude.

"He is one of the two associates we have been watching Sir, the other escaped, but Jules and Eudes went after him as he fled into the forest."

"On your feet NOW! growled Tréville eyeing the man.

The man struggled to stand, his wrists still tethered with hemp.

Victor grabbed him by the arm to aid him.

"What is your name? pressed Tréville.

The man spat out blood and wiped his two hands over his ashen face.

"I do not answer to musketeers." he seethed shooting a glare towards his audience.

Aramis felt his teeth clenching with enrage.

He had tried to kill Athos, yet here he stands defiant.

The medic slowly walked around him, eyeing him from head to foot.

"Maybe you would rather answer to Cardinal Durand would you not? he asked almost theatrical.

Porthos and d'Artagnan exchanged knowing looks.

"Aramis! not now." growled Tréville turning to Claude.

"Lock this viper in the cells...I do not want to look at him a moment longer."

Aramis watched as Claude and Victor prodded the man in the back almost making him lose his balance.

"Move..now! yelled Victor.

"I have to get back to Athos." said Aramis turning on his heel towards the infirmary.

The medic suddenly glanced up as one of the scullery lads came running towards him.

Monsieur Aramis! Monsieur Aramis!...Serge sent me to fetch you...its Athos...he is waking."

Aramis' walk swiftly turned into a hastened scurry as he ran towards the building followed by the others in close pursuit.

Serge was ready and waiting at the door as he heard the rapid footfalls approaching, the door was swiftly opened as Aramis rushed in. His eyes averting towards Athos' bed, he frowned as he noticed his friend still motionless. He turned to Serge appearing perplexed.

"I thought you said he was awake Serge? he inquired sounding almost iritated.

Serge grinned.

"The lad opened 'is eyes...I swear...he opened them and groaned a bit." replied the veteran.

Porthos, d'Artagnan and Tréville entered, pausing in their tracks at the foot of Athos' bed, each giving each other an irresolute glance.

"Thought he had woken? asked Tréville moving to Athos' side. He looked over to Aramis with a questioning look on his face.

Aramis said nothing, he was watching his friends chest move up and down, then that second he noticed the swordmans eyes flicker slightly, the medic felt his own stomach churn slightly, hoping his friend would be compos mentis.

_It's so dark, I heed voices, feel pain in head and body, shapes moving over me, those voices, I know them, am I in hell, is this what death is, someone call my name, the house, the blast, feel like I want to throw up._

"There then...look...said d'Artagnan through tremulous tones.

Porthos moved next to Aramis, both men swapping slight smiles.

"Athos...Athos, can you hear me mon ami? murmered Aramis sweeping the swordmans hair away from his face. "Come now, open those eyes for me, we have tarried for so long in wait for you to wake."

A low groan emitted from the injured musketeer as his eyes rolled under the lids.

"Hu...rts...pa..in...hur..ts." he croaked.

"I know my friend, I shall fetch you something for the pain." replied Aramis turning to the nightchest.

That instant Athos heaved and coughed.

"Si...ck...sick." he gasped.

Aramis shot a glance to Porthos.

"Turn him onto his side quickly." ordered the medic reaching for a bowl ready to catch the vomit.

Porthos did as Aramis asked just in time as the injured swordsman retched and heaved, throwing up his entire stomach contents into the bowl. The foul stench of vomit filled the air.

Porthos swapped a concerned look with d'Artagnan as their brother gasped and snorted. Aramis swiftly wrung a cloth in cold water and wiped his brothers face and beard, before holding a cup of water to his mouth.

Athos sipped it before laying back onto the pillow.

"Rest now my friend." comforted the medic pulling the blankets over his friend.

"Dear God...why has he vomitted so violently Mis? frowned d'Artagnan sounding worried for his brother.

Aramis was mixing one of his concoctions into a cup, he turned slightly.

"It is the blow to the head he received, I am somewhat glad he did, it is when there is no response one has to worry mon ami."

The medic moved to Athos' side.

"Porthos if you would be so kind and hold up his head whilst I administer this." he asked.

The big musketeer was up in an instant as he slid his arm under Athos's shoulders.

"Come on 'thos, time for yer medicine, even if it does taste like rat droppings."

d'Artagnan stifled a chuckle.

Aramis gave the big man a quirk of his brow as he held the small cup to the swordmans lips, he watched as he grimaced with the sour taste of laudanum.

"Don't...like ...it." gasped Athos screwing up his eyes tightly making them water.

"I know it is not pleasent my friend...but it will help with the pain you are enduring." murmered the medic catching Porthos' concerned glance.

Athos suddenly winced as pain seared through his body from the sword wound, tears filled his eyes as the agony became evident upon his features.

"Carfeful Porthos, I do not want him to undo my stitching." said the medic helping the big man to lay Athos back against the pillow.

Aramis swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, he could almost feel his brothers anguish as he suffered through the throes of torment.

"Do you still need Lemay? asked Tréville moving to Athos' side and shooting a hastened glance towards Aramis.

Aramis wiped his hands on the cloth as he eyed his injured brother, before turning to the older man.

"I think we should wait, see what the laudanum does, he should feel some relief very soon."

All eyes averted as Athos attempted to speak.

"Were...am..I? he croaked.

Aramis sat in the chair next to his brothers side and felt his forhead, the last thing he needed was a fever.

"You're in the infirmary mon ami...you have been unconscious for several hours...you had us all worried for you." replied the medic.

"Yes...we all thought we had lost you Athos." added d'Artagnan.

"It takes a great deal to keep 'thos down, fights to the bitter end." growled Porthos with a grin. "You will have to tell us 'ow you managed to get out of that hell hole."

"He can save that for another day my friend...right now he needs rest." said Aramis.

"Let me know if you need Lemay Aramis." growled Tréville suddenly. "I shall be in my office chamber if I am needed."

The medic nodded as Tréville vacated the room.

Serge followed the musketeer captain.

"I will take my leave lads, need to get the chicken stew prepared. He be needin' somethin' in 'is belly."

The door closed behind the veteran as he left.

"Is the pain easing my friend? asked Aramis stroking Athos' hair from his brow.

The injured musketeer slowly opened his eyes and nodded slightly.

"Why is it...so dark...in here Mis?

A deep frown suddenly set on the medics features as he shot a swift glance towards Porthos and d'Artagnan, his stomach began to churn over as he looked back at his frriend.

"Dark? inquired d'Artagnan through tremulous tones. "What does he mean Aramis, the sun is still shining through the windows."

Porthos glared at Aramis, the look of a sudden concern was evident on the big musketeers face.

"Aramis? he growled prompting the medic to sit at Athos' side and grasp his brothers arm.

"Athos...it is still light mon ami, tell me, what do you mean when you say dark?

_Aramis, it's Aramis, I can see his shape in the darkness. He touches my arm._

Athos stared up at the ceiling as the others waited for his reply, the three men stood almost statuesque, not wanting to hear the answer.

"I do not...see you Aramis...light some candles. So dark."

d'Artagnan put his hand to his mouth and took an intake of breath, his eyes filling with moisture as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Tell me this is not happening? snorted the Gascon through tears.

Porthos walked towards the window and stared across the courtyard, he felt physically sick. He turned back into the room and stared over to Aramis, the medic was wiping his eyes.

Aramis wanted to yell out loud in anger and frustration, he felt suddenly helpless to help his brother.

"Can you see any of us mon ami? he asked Athos.

Athos coughed slightly, his eyes not leaving the ceiling.

"Shapes...it's dark Aramis, why can I not see you? he replied, his voice breaking in mid sentence.

Aramis averted his eyes to his two friends, tears had spilled down the medics face.

"We need Lemay...NOW! he yelled hoarsely.

Before he had spoken the words, Porthos and d'Artagnan had turned on their heels and left the chamber.

The sound of Porthos' growl reverberated around the courtyard as they went.

"I'LL KILL 'EM FOR THIS...NO ONE WILL STOP ME!

oooooOOooooo

**Hi Guys,**

**Sorry about the cliffy.**

**Hope you are all staying well with this horrible Coronavirus doing the rounds. It's like a nightmare, if only people would just buy what they need instead of bulk buying, its crazy.**

**Glad you are still reading the story. Thank you for your awesome comments, love them.**

**Speak soon**

**Pippa xxx**

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	25. Chapter 25

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Twenty Five.**

Aramis sat at the table in the middle of the infirmary chamber, his head resting in his hands, his thoughts were filled with foreboding anguish as he prayed for his brothers well being, holding his crucifix between his fingers the medic muttered quiet orison as Athos slept. Tears had welled in his eyes as he prayed, he cannot be blind, it is something else, he has to be alright, this cannot be, not Athos, he is a fine soldier, he does not deserve such woeful torment.

The marksman lifted his head and looked towards his brother, Athos had opened his eyes and was again staring up at the ceiling as though he could see something he could not. Aramis stood and moved towards him.

"Ah you are awake again my friend, you must be thirsty, I shall fetch you some water."

Athos turned his head towards the sound of the medics voice and nodded.

"Yes...please." he coughed.

Aramis poured from the ewer into a cup before lifting his brothers head up. He held the cup to his lips.

"Come mon ami drink now."

Athos felt for the cup with a trembling hand and drank.

Aramis hadn't failed to notice the blood in the corner of the swordmans eyes.

"How is the pain my friend...has it abated? asked the medic.

Athos lay back and winced slightly.

"Not as bad...just when I move...my side is like a burning dagger."

"That will ease mon ami, I shall apply more balm, the wound may have become somewhat dry." replied Aramis.

The medic placed the cup back onto the nightstand and reached for the balm.

"Tell me my friend...is your head still painful? he asked turning to Athos.

The injured swrodsman lay still, his head turning towards his brothers voice.

"It comes and goes." he replied.

Noticing tears in his brothers eyes, Aramis swallowed the lump in his own throat.

"Will I see again Aramis? came the immediate question through a quivering and broken voice.

The medic felt like he wanted to vomit, his stomach churned, what was he supposed to say, he didn't know the answer himself, it was beyond his medical knowledge, it was something he had not come across before, he felt an anger with himself at not knowing how to help his dear brother.

Aramis squeezed Athos' arm and fidgited with the blanket as he tucked it around his body, the last thing he wanted to do was to fill his friend with false hopes.

"Doctor Lemay is on his way here mon ami, he is an excellent physician, I am certain he will have an answer to this."

A sudden clatter of footfalls made Aramis glance towards the door.

It suddenly swung open, Porthos and Tréville rushed in followed by Doctor Lemay with d'Artagnan in tow.

Porthos and d'Artagnan joining Athos's bedside as the marksman moved away towards Tréville and Lemay.

Lemay smiled towards the medic.

"I heed you require my services Aramis?

Aramis nodded with a sad smile as he ushered Lemay and Tréville out of ear shot.

The medic swallowed hard, he didn't want to hear what the physician may declare.

"Athos cannot see, he says everything is dark, he is just seeing shapes of us as we move around."

"Dear God...how long has he been like this? asked Tréville almost in a whisper. The musketeer captain running his fingers through his hair, the look of anguish was etched upon his face.

"Since he awoke captain." replied Aramis.

Lemay frowned deeply as he heeded the medics words a slight nod of the head as he spoke.

"Has he had trauma to the head? asked the physician quietly.

Aramis glanced back at his brothers as they spoke with Athos before turning back to Lemay.

"He has, he had a wound above his left eye, he was probably beaten a dozen times. He was practically blown to pieces...but he managed to escape before the blast took hold."

Lemay shook his head, reverence evident on his face.

"Good God...I am surprised he lives...you musketeers never cease to amaze me."

"I am afraid it is beyond my skill doctor, I only wish I had some knowledge of the eyes." muttered Aramis.

Tréville pulled out a chair and sat at the table, he wiped both hands over his face and looked at Lemay.

"Can you help him?

Lemay placed his medical bag down on the table top and quirked both brows. I shall examine him now gentlemen.

Both Tréville and Aramis swapped worried glances as Lemay moved towards Athos' bed. He shot a glance towards Porthos and d'Artagnan.

"If you would be so kind gentlemen and give me some room to examine your friend."

Both musketeers said nothing as they joined Tréville at the table, both young men too overwrought to say a word.

Aramis stood at the foot of Athos' bed as Lemay got nearer to his brother. Athos lay still, both eyes open and staring as he heard the physicain's voice.

"Athos, it is I doctor Lemay...tell me how are you feeling my friend?

Athos turned towards the voice.

"I thought I heard your voice doctor...my head hurts."

Lemay leaned towards the swordsman.

"I am going to look into both of your eyes Athos...if you would be so kind and keep your head very still for me."

Aramis watched as the physician carefully placed his finger and thumb over his brothers right eye and stretched it open wider to observe. He reached for a candle in its holder and held it above the eye noticing the blood, before performing the same on the left eye.

"Tell me Athos do you see anything? asked Lemay suddenly.

Athos turned towards Lemay's voice.

"Dark shapes...sometimes foggy shapes of someone near me." replied the swordsman.

"Did you wake like this, or did it just occur over time? asked Lemay.

Athos voice was broken as he answered with a question.

"I woke like this...will I see again?

"He thought is was dark when he awoke doctor." interjected Aramis " he was asking us to light some candles...the sun was shining through the windows."

Lemay nodded as he heeded the medics words, he turned to Athos.

"I cannot give you an answer presently Athos...it seems there is visual impairment, could be a pressure on the optic nerve."

Aramis frowned with slight hesitation.

"Can you do something to restore his vision?

Tréville had stood and walked towards Athos' bed, he stared into Lemays face, the physician was deep in thoughts as Aramis asked the question.

"I have a doctor friend who resides near to the Chatelet, he is a master when it comes to the eyes, I shall pay him visit gentlemen, I do believe he may know more than I."

Porthos suddenly stood, his face that of seething anger.

"I thought you were a doctor...why can't you do something for Athos? he growled.

d'Artagnan had grasped the big mans arm as he spoke.

Porthos...leave it." he insisted.

Porthos pulled his arm free from the Gascon as he moved towards Lemay.

"PORTHOS!...GET OUT OF HERE NOW! yelled Tréville.

Athos lay still as he heeded his friends fury, he could feel a lump in his throat, his brothers cared for him so much. _I do not deserve this care they give me, it is making them irksome._

The large musketeer's features were that of both torment and anger as he glanced towards Aramis.

The medic shook his head knowingly and squeezed his friends shoulder."

"Doctor Lemay will help him my friend."

The chamber was silent for seconds before Porthos rushed out of the door, followed by d'Artganan.

Tréville turned to Lemay.

"I hope you can forgive my musketeer doctor, he is very worried for Athos, we all are."

Lemay smiled slightly.

"There is nothing to forgive captain, it is somewhat very understanding, your men are like brothers."

"So your friend, he will know what to do then? murmered Aramis.

Lemay nodded as he delved into his medical bag.

"He will indeed...now what I would like you to do Aramis, I will leave you a potion of salt and water, I would like you to wash Athos' eyes in it every two hours until I return."

Tréville and Aramis watched as Lemay mixed salt into a jar and filled it with water.

Aramis nodded.

"Will that help him?

Lemay handed the medic the jar and smiled.

"It will keep the eyes clean, the last thing we need is infection."

He turned to Athos and squeezed his arm.

"We will do our upmost Athos, I shall return forthwith with my confrére, he will advise well."

Tears had welled in the swordmans eyes as he felt for Lemays hand, he found it and gripped it.

"I thank you doctor." he said hoarsly.

Tréville and Aramis swapped helpless glances.

"I will do all I can Athos...that I vow to you my friend." added the physician.

He turned to Tréville and Aramis as he picked up his medical bag.

"I bid you good day gentlemen, I shall return in haste."

Tréville smiled slightly, thats all he could do, he knew Lemay from old, he was an excellent doctor to the king himself. He knew the man would do his upmost until he was satisfied it was ample.

"I shall walk you to the gate doctor." said Tréville opening the door.

ooooOOoooo

**Hi Guys,**

**I hope you are all fit and well in these anxious times that are happening all over our planet. It is a scary place at the moment.**

**Getting back to the story...thank you all so much for your very kind comments, I love them, you inspire me to write even more stories.**

**Well do you think Doctor Lemay's friend will be able to help Athos? lets hope so. **

**I will try and update ASAP!**

**Thank you for reading folks.**

**Speak Soon**

**Pippa xxxx**

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	26. Chapter 26

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Twenty Six.**

Constance Bonacieux strode through the archway, folded cloth hanging over one arm, she paused in her tracks noticing Porthos and d'Artagnan sitting at their usual table. From the distance she stood she knew they were fretting for Athos, her face that of concern as she continued her saunter towards them.

"How is Athos faring." asked the young woman as she approached the wooden table. The two musketeers were eating breakfast in silence, Constance stood eyeing both men as they glanced up at her, worry and anguish was evident and etched on both their features.

d'Artagnan smiled slightly as he looked into her lovely face.

"Doctor Lemay and his physician friend are with him now, we thought we would give them some space whilst he examined his eyes, Tréville and Aramis are with him."

Porthos swigged ale from a tankard and glanced at her.

"I 'ope he can 'elp 'im...the thought of 'im being blind...well I don't want to even think about it...Athos's life is being a musketeer...it would ruin 'im..."

Constance felt her own eyes welling up as Porthos voice broke off with emotion.

d'Artganan patted the big man on the shoulder and squeezed tightly before pouring his friend more ale.

"Let us not think that way my friend." muttered the Gascon.

"I am certain doctor Lemay would not waste time fetching such a physicain if he did not think there was something they could do for Athos' sight." commented Constance with feeling.

d'Artagnan smiled as he reached for her hand in his.

"You are probably right...I never thought of it that way." he murmered.

Porthos nodded.

"I 'ope your right Constance."

"She's always right." grinned d'Artagnan kissing the back of her hand. "Now why are you here mon amour."

Constance raised her brows as she gave d'Artagnan a glare.

"Do I need an excuse to call on the garrison, someone has to keep you boys in check, and in answer to your question I have the new cloth for the cloaks Captain Tréville asked for."

"Leave it in his office Constance, he will probably be a while." smiled d'Artagnan.

The young woman smiled fondly as she hitched up her skirts and turned on her heel, before ascending the wooden steps to Tréville's office.

ooo

Athos lay still in the bed, he could feel the fingers proding and poking at his eyes, now and then a slight cold sensation as something was administered into them, he could just make out the slightly moving shapes as this new voice spoke. The voice that doctor Lemay had introduced as Monsieur Gilles Dutroux. He could feel the slight grip of Aramis' hand squeezing his as his brother re-assured him everything was fine.

The Master of Science as Lemay had described him was adept when it came to the human eye.

Gilles Dutroux held a lens to each of the swordmans eyes, he carefully looked into each one with excellent scrutiny. Athos could feel the slight tickle on his face as Dutroux's long tresses touched his cheek, an aroma of scented cologne filled his nostrils as the man lifted both eyelids.

"You are indeed right Lemay, there is pressure on the optic nerve, also present are globe lacerations, that is why there is blood in the eyes." said Dutroux through toneless voice.

Aramis and Tréville caught each others eyeline as Dutroux declared his findings.

"That indeed came into my thinking Gilles." commented Lemay. "I did instruct Aramis to administer the salt and water, there could have been foreign bodies within the eye."

Dutroux glanced up and nodded to his friend.

"You did right my friend, I myself would have done exactly that."

Dotroux turned again to Athos and patted his arm.

"Pray tell me young man, have you any other discomfort within your eyes? he asked.

Athos blinked away the salt water and turned towards the voice.

"My head, it aches...but not as bad as yesterday, Aramis gave me a pain draught, that is usually suffice."

Aramis had moved to Athos bedside as Dutroux asked the question to his friend.

"It was a mild opia, I do hope I did right Monsieur? murmered the medic.

Duroux nodded as he patted Aramis on the arm.

"You did splendidly Aramis, that is what I would have suggested." he replied.

Lemay smiled towards Aramis as he caught his glance.

"Will I see again? came the sudden question from Athos.

Aramis felt a slight lump in his throat, the stomach churn had returned to his guts, he was in fear for his friend, he could feel the anguish in his brothers voice as he asked Duroux the dreaded question that nobody wanted to heed the answer to.

Douroux sat on the side of the swordmans bed and fiddled with his beard before answering the musketeer.

"I will endeavour to help you Athos, the eyes are very complex so I am going to administer one of my very fine concoctions."

Aramis and Lemay swapped glances of curiosity as Duroux turned to the kings physicain and stood.

"Lemay my friend we shall endeavour to do this together, I will be needing garlic gloves, oxgall and wine." ordered Duroux in strident tones as he reached for his cloak.

Doctor Lemay followed suit as he picked up his medical bag.

Duroux turned to Tréville and Aramis as he tied up his cloak bindings, he could see the worry on their faces as he ushered them out of earshot of Athos.

"Try not to fret too much, I shall do everything I can, I do believe this could be a temporary misfortune, but like I said, I shall do my upmost to save the young mans sight."

Tréville shook Duroux's hand with heartfelt emotion.

"I cannot thank you enough Monsieur Duroux, you have been most productive in your findings." said the musketeer captain.

"It is my upmost pleasure Captain to serve the kings elite guard...I shall return in hast in three hours, I need time for the solution to steep...now I must take my leave so Doctor Lemay and I can prepare the mixture."

Aramis suddenly turned to Lemay and quirked a brow in curiosity.

"Am I right in thinking that oxgall is bile from a cows stomach?

Lemay fixed his own cloak and patted the medics arm.

"That is quite correct Aramis." he replied with a grin. "That is quite correct."

The marksman frowned slightly and nodded.

ooo

Captain Tréville stared across the rooftops of Paris from his office window, the skies were beginning to darken, threatening a coming storm from the west, the clouds beginning to obscure the waning sunshine. The past couple of days had been a turmoil of mixed emotions and anguish as they all fretted for the well being of Athos, their beloved brother. Would his lieutenant ever see again, the thought of him being permanently blind was laying like a boulder on himself and his mens shoulders.

Tréville had left Duroux and Lemay with Aramis as they prepared the concoction that would hopefully help the injured swordsman. The musketeer captain suddnly turned back into the room to face Porthos and d'Artagnan, both musketeers sitting in silent reverie as they despaired for Athos. Tréville reached for his fine brandy and picked up three goblets between his fingers before setting them down and pouring out the spirit, he handed each man a drink and reclaimed his seat behind his desk.

Porthos sipped from his glass and eyed the older man.

"You summoned us captain, something tells me it ain't to drink brandy."

Tréville swirled the amber liquid around his goblet before taking a swig. He smiled slightly as he heeded the big mans question.

d'Artagnan swapping a curious glance with his friend.

"You are quite correct, I didn't ask you up here to drink my brandy, I want you both to interrorgate our prisoner, I want him to admit he works for Durand."

d'Artagnan frowned slightly as he eyed the older man.

"I thought you were going to wait for the other renegade to be apprehended captain? asked the Gascon.

Tréville pinched the bridge of his nose and swigged from his glass.

"Time is of the essence gentlemen, I want the Cardinal to pay for his crimes, I am beginning to wonder if the king truly believes me when I informed him he was involved in all this unrest."

Porthos met Trévilles resolute face across the desk.

"It will give me great pleasure captain." growled the big man.

Tréville looked at him.

"One thing Porthos, we need him alive, he has to stand before the king." added the musketeer captain.

Both Porthos and d'Artagnan swigged the remains of their brandy and stood.

"I am certain our dear Porthos can be gentle when he puts his mind to it captain." chuckled the young man patting his friend on the back.

Porthos gave his younger brother a scowl and snorted.

"I don't do gentle! he growled.

"Porthos!...come now...you know what I mean." said Tréville firmly.

"By all means Sir." growled Porthos.

ooo

**TBC...**

**Hi guys,**

**Hope you are all staying safe and well in these unprecedented times.**

**Isolation is really not good when the sun is shining down, it makes you want to go out more, but alas we cannot so we have to put up with it. Let us all hope that this horrid virus peaks soon. It is so very sad to see the news and people dying, I really feel for the familes and friends of these people.**

**Anyway a short chapter this time, I am so pleased you are staying with the story, let us hope that the concoction of mixture will help poor Athos.**

**Will Porthos and d'Artagnan actually get the truth from the prisoner?**

**Will the Cardinal get his comeuppance.**

**Speak soon guys**

**Pippa xxx**

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	27. Chapter 27

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Twenty Seven.**

Doctor Lemay and his associate Monsieur Doroux had hastened to arrive at the garrison just as they said they would, Aramis had felt a slight pang of conceivable optimism run through his very sole as the two men arrived to aid with Athos' injury. The musketeer smiled as they both entered the infirmary.

oo

Monsieur Doroux placed the pewter pot down onto the table and glanced up at Aramis, the marksman had tarried in anticipation awaiting the final moment the concoction would be applied to his dear friends eyes. The medic had prayed every hour since Athos had been returned to them by his saviour, the old farmer who had found him. They were all grateful that their brother had been spared his life. It had saddened them on discovering Athos' world had become an abyss of darkness. They now all hoped that Monsieur Doroux could help him.

Aramis smiled with curiosity as he eyed the large vessel.

"How do we do this? asked the marksman taking off the lid and sniffing the contents.

Doroux turned to the medic and opened his medical bag.

"I have brought muslin with me Aramis." he answered delving into his bag and retrieving the cloths. "We will have to cover Athos' eyes every hour with fresh mixture in order for it to suffuse through the muslin carefully."

Doctor Lemay began to cut the muslin into long strips with a sharpened knife, spreading them over the table top in order for the mixture to be applied.

Aramis watched as the two men set to work.

"Can I do anything gentlemen? he asked suddenly.

Doroux smiled at the musketeer.

"Indeed dear Aramis, if you would be so kind and have Athos body inclined, so his legs are raised, we need to make certain the blood is flowing towards the brain."

Aramis frowned slightly as he heeded Doroux's request, his mind a maze of perplexed thoughts and bewilderment.

The medic nodded as he moved towards his friends bedside.

Athos could feel his brothers presence as he got closer. The swordsman turned towards him and held out a hand. Aramis smiled and took his hand in his.

"Good you are awake mon ami." he said squeezing his brothers hand in his.

"Aramis...they are here are they not? Monsieur Doroux and Doctor Lemay?

Aramis swept his friends hair from his brow and smiled.

"They are indeed mon ami, they are preparing the concoction as we speak." replied the medic. Monsieur Doroux has asked me to raise your legs."

"Why? asked the curious swordsman.

Aramis patted his brothers shoulder.

"Seemingly the blood will flow to your brain, hence your eyes. But before I do so, I would like to apply a fresh dressing to your side my friend."

Athos was staring up at the ceiling as Aramis lifted his friends shirt and began to remove the old dressing.

"Where is Porthos and d'Artagnan? he asked suddenly.

"They have gone to question our prisoner, one of the reprobates that tried to kill you my friend, the other evaded capture, but Tréville has men out searching for him, he won't get far. The captian is adamant to get to the truth, and we all know the cardinal is involved...mmmn that is healing nicely."

Athos turned his face towards his friends voice.

"If anyone can obtain the truth from him it is Porthos." said Athos. "He won't last five minutes."

Aramis sniggered as he tended his brothers wound and pulled his shirt back over his skin.

"Our big friend has been forewarned my friend, Tréville will be present, we want him alive...well for the moment anyway."

Athos lay back against the pillow.

"I will get you a drink mon ami." murmered Aramis pouring water into a cup.

"I would prefer ale if you would be so kind."

Aramis shook his head slightly and smiled.

"Not as of yet my friend, you have been mortally wounded and I am not going to undue my work."

Athos snorted.

"Thirsty."

"Tea will indeed suffice for now, there is plenty of time for ale." replied Aramis sounding determined. "We want you well again mon ami."

Athos squeezed his eyes tightly shut and moaned slightly with frustration.

"You are becomming a mother hen Aramis."

The medic turned to his friend and smirked with a quirk of the brow.

"It's my job my friend." he snorted.

oooo

**Garrison Cells.**

The man was crouched in the corner of the cell as the doors grinded open, the rasping sound of the metal as it grated across the stoney ground reverberated off the walls.

The prisoner looked up swiftly as the flame of a torch suddenly lit up the small enclosure prompting the man to squint through the haze of orange glows.

Porthos and d'Artagnan entered, both swapping glances as they turned and eyed the man, the reeking stench filled the the already stale air.

The prisoner ran his fingers through his unruly hair and glared at the two musketeers, a slight scowling grin on his face.

"Well if it ain't the kings elite guard, I am most privileged gentlemen." he mocked with a snort.

Porthos stood glaring at the man, his tightened jaw and clenched fists as he slowly moved closer to the renegade.

d'Artagnan shot a glance to his big friend before turning back to the prisoner.

"You tried to kill my friend, I am not one for letting anyone get away with such dirty deeds." growled Porthos suddenly as his face became closer to the mans. "It is somewhat a wonder you still live."

The prisoner cowered away as the big musketeers features became nearer.

"You cannot kill me musketeer, the king will have your head on the block, I deserve a fair trail." seethed the man.

d'Artagnan began to chortle as he watched the spectical.

"That is were you are wrong, you see the king does not know you exist, we can kill you here and now and no one would know any different." grinned the Gascon.

Porthos put his hand around the prisoners throat and guffawed mockingly.

The renegade's features suddenly became full of evident anxiety as the two musketeers mocked.

"You will not get away with this, my associate is still at large and will inform the rightful authorities of your behaviour towards me."

"That is were you are wrong." came the growl from captain Tréville as he suddenly entered the cell.

Both musketeers turned towards the older man as he entered.

"You see...your associate as you call him has just been apprehended by my men and is on his way here as we speak."

Porthos and d'Artagnan swapped stifled grins.

The Gascon folded his arms scornfully and leaned against the stone cell wall, he glared at the prisoner and raised both brows.

"So if you wish to live, now would be the time to inform us for whom you work for." he said. "Otherwise we close the door behind us and leave you with my dear friend here."

The Gascon patted Porthos on the back and winked mockingly.

"He always obtains the truth, I have witnessed first hand at what he is capable of." he snarled.

d'Artagnan looked into the prisoners on edge features and quirked a brow.

"Is is not a pretty sight, limbs everywhere, sometimes not being able to itentify whether it be an arm or a leg."

Porthos growled mockingly as he glared into the mans terrified face.

Tréville could hardly contain his mirth as the young musketeer snarled out at the prisoner.

"So who are you working for? he demanded.

The prisoner swallowed hard as he glanced into Porthos irked features, his fists still clenched tightly as he towered above him like an angry bull waiting to charge.

"I work for no one, we despise the monarchy, we wanted to rid France of the kings elite guard."

Tréville snorted a chortle.

"You two have not got the brains to think up such a notion." he hissed. "Come d'Artagnan, leave Porthos to do the deed."

"Be my pleasure." growled the streetfighter.

The Gascon nodded as he clapped his friend on the shoulder.

"Yes Sir." he replied walking towards the door.

Both Tréville and d'Artagnan swapping glances with the big man as they moved to the cell door.

Porthos glared at the man, as he began to remove his doublet and crack his knuckles loudly.

The door closing loudly with a rasping grind.

"WAIT! yelled the prisoner.

Both Tréville and d'Artagnan exchanging glances of fulfilment.

ooo

**Infirmary.**

Aramis had managed to have his friends legs raised on three pillows as he lay in the bed. The swordsman lay still, his mind a labyrinth of thought and images as he endeavoured to take in the last few hours of events. His friend had carefully explained what Lemay and Doroux were about to do in order to try their best to help him.

Monsieur Doroux began to scoop up the mixture and spread it onto the muslin strips, Aramis and Leamy catching each others glances as he did so.

"Have you seen this work Monsieur? asked Aramis out of ear shot of Athos.

Doroux smiled slightly as he scooped up more mixture.

"Indeed I have, a year ago when a man tumbled from a roof, he lost his sight the next day, I administered this and his sight returned in two days. Another was a child four years ago. Both have made a full recovery, but I must warn you gentlemen, not everyone is lucky, so I implore you to keep that in mind."

Aramis felt a sudden churn of his stomach. _It had to work, it had to, please God._

Doroux and Lemay moved towards Athos. Lemay setting down the strips of muslin onto the nightstand.

"Now Athos I am about to put this onto your eyes." said Doroux. "You may experience a cold sensation whilst the mixture warms against your skin."

Athos felt the reassuring squeeze on his arm from Aramis as Doroux administered the strips of muslin to his friends eyes.

Athos flinched slightly with the sudden icy feel of the concoction made contact with his skin.

"Feels strange." murmered the swordsman.

"Stay as still as you can Athos." ordered Doroux as he tied another strip of clean muslin around the musketeers head. "There that should suffice."

"How long do I have to stay like this? asked Athos suddenly.

"After a few hours I have requested that Aramis removes it and administers another. I want you to sleep like this Athos, I am aware it is not comfortable, but it is most crucial that the mixture seeps into the eyes.

"How long will he be like this? asked Aramis suddenly.

"I would say at least two days...then I shall return to examine the globes once again." replied Doroux firmly.

Lemay patted Aamis on the shoulder.

"We shall pray this works my friend, try not to fret so."

Aramis turned and glanced at his friend, his eyes covered, he wanted to yell out loud to God. _It has to work, It has to, for Athos's sanity._

ooooOOoooo

**TBC...**

**Hi guys,**

**I thank you for the fabulous comments my friends, love them all.**

**I hope you are all well and not becoming too bored with the lockdowns all over the world.**

**I really am so proud of all the medical staff who have to put their lives on the line every day. BRAVO!**

**Will do my upmost to post ASAP!**

**Speak soon**

**Pippa xxx**

**PS: I am not a medic, all what you have read in the story is my own research from the 17th Century eye doctors. **

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	28. Chapter 28

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Twenty Eight.**

Porthos grabbed the prisoner, man handling him roughly the big man forced the renegade to a sitting position at the table. The big musketeer's deep irksome frowns said it all. How he wanted to wipe that smirk off the dolts face. Athos was blind because of him, he may never see again, he might never be a musketeer again. Porthos swallowed hard at the sheer thought. _It would give me great pleasure to see him hang, but maybe that would be too swift, I could easily brake his body on the wheel._

The large man suddenly gained his self-restraint as Tréville's booming voice filled the cell.

"So your telling me that you were ordered to kill my musketeers one by one? growled Tréville turning sharply and leaning forward onto the table, he glared into the mans frowning features. "Tell me...whom was it that gave such an order?

The prisoner sat in silence and shrugged his shoulders before receiving a kick to the foot.

"Answer the captain! demanded d'Artagnan.

The man lifted his head and stared at the enraged musketeer captain.

"If you give me your word Tréville, that I will not be hanged, then I shall reveal to you as to whom I work for."

Porthos and d'Artagnan swapped glanced with the older man before he averted his eyes back to the prisoner.

"That is not my word to give, but I shall indeed speak with his majesty on your behalf, he may grant you clemency."

The prisoner threw back his head and chortled loudly.

Porthos glared at him.

"Somethin' amuses yer...you won't be laughin' when I've finished with yer." he growled catching Tréville's eye.

The prisoner looked from Porthos to the musketeer captain.

"You really expect me to believe that Tréville?...as I have already stated...I need your apsolute certainty I will be spared the noose. I will not hang for his deeds."

"Who's deeds? asked d'Artagnan suddenly.

The man smirked as he lifted his head up and scowled at the Gascon.

"You nearly lost your head did you not musketeer?...so very well planned, you all have your weaknesses, it would seem yours is damsels in distress."

The man laughed again.

d'Artagnan flew at him, grabbing him around the collar of his shirt.

"WHY YOU...

"D'ARTAGNAN! growled Tréville in warning.

The Gascon suddenly let go of his grip on the man, his teeth clenched with enrage as he glared into the prisoners scowling features.

Porthos had moved forward slightly, he cracked his knuckles prompting the man to wane his grin.

Tréville knew his men could rip the man apart given the chance, he also knew they needed vital information, he had to hear the prisoner actually divulge Durand's name, then he would have him.

"I will ask you again...who are you working for? seethed the musketeer captain.

The renegade sat back in his chair and stared into Tréville's enraged features.

ooo

Aramis was sitting at the table within the infirmary, an eerie silence had left the musketeer feeling somewhat overwrought, would this starnge concoction help his dear friend.

Aramis turned and glanced towards Athos as he lay inclined in the bed, the swordsman had fallen into a deep sleep after having been given honey opia to ease the pain in his side. The muslin cloths tied around his eyes like that of a blindfold looked strange to say the least, he knew the swordsman so well, he himself would find the whole scenario indeed peculiar.

Athos was a fine musketeer, it was his life, it kept him going from day to day, it kept the troubled swordsman occupied, it abated his nightmares he endured night after night. Was that now going to be taken away from him. Aramis felt his own eyes begining to sting, he blinked away the tears and reached for his crucifix, holding it between his fingers Aramis kissed it and began to mutter a prayer.

"_I implore you Lord, please spare his sight, we all need Athos, he is our anchor, our comrade, our friend, our brother, without him we will never be one and all again."_

The sombre orison had brought the salty tears steaming down the marksmans face as he quietly prayed, he took out his hankerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. He glanced back at Athos, his freind was still sleeping soundly.

ooo

Captain Tréville and his two men turned swifty as a loud rumpus reverberated off the stone walls.

Porthos hurried to the cell door swiflty, grabbing his pistol from his belt the big man peered down the passageway.

"Who goes there? he growled loudly.

Musketeers Jules and Eudes appeared around the corner, both men practically dragging someone by the arms, blood covered the mans face.

Both soldiers paused in their stride as they glanced up at the big man.

"The other assassin, we have him, we found him trying to buy his way onto a carriage heading for LaHarve." answered Jules.

oo

Captain Tréville and d'Artagnan caught each others eye as they heard Jules elated voice fill the passageway, both men in silent converse and nodding in acknowledgement as they comprehended the plot.

Tréville suddenly grabbed the prisoner and gagged him, re-locking the shackles that hung from the stone wall.

oo

d'Artagnan joined Porthos in the passage, both men swapping grins at the outcome as they approached the prisoner. The man was gasping for breath as Porthos lifted his chin and stared into his face, the prisoner coughed and spat out saliva to the ground.

"Your associate is dead, because he refused to tell us whom gave you the order to kill the musketeers." seethed Porthos.

The prisoner winced in pain as he glared in the musketeers enraged and frowning features.

"He could have saved himself." dead-panned d'Artagnan shooting a glance at Porthos before staring into the mans face.

The prisoner coughed again and spat.

"Saved himself...how may I ask? he grunted.

Jules and Eudes tightened their grip as he stuttered and coughed.

"He only had to inform us whom you were working for...the king himself would have granted him clemency...but he chose to be hanged." replied the Gascon.

oo

Tréville leaned against the cell wall heeding his mens ploy, a pistol aimed at the shackled and gagged prisoner as he too listened to his associates pained tones. His face turning crimson with frustration, his eyed wide with anger.

oo

"How do I know I can trust you musketeers? growled the prisoner.

Porthos glared.

"That is up to you, I meself...well I would wanner live...nothin' worse than yer back being broken on the wheel."

The prisoner swallowed hard as his mind filled with the slaughtering image.

"So...if I tell you...I will be set free? he snorted.

"In order for clemency to become valid, the king will want to speak with you, then you will be put on a ship at La Harve, there you will leave France for England for a new life." said d'Artagnan.

The prisoner glanced from one to the other as he was held fast by Jules and Eudes.

Porthos and d'Artagnan caught each others swift eyeline, both men oppressing their mirth.

The prisoner was deep in thought as he stared at both musketeers.

"Very well...I will tell you." he muttered.

oo

Tréville remained out of sight as his men played out their ruse cunningly, his pistol still aimed at the gagged man.

oo

Porthos and d'Artagnan stood rigid as they awaited the prisoners response.

The man looked up into the musketeers faces, he spat again onto the ground and sniffed.

"I was working for the cardinal. Cardinal Durand, he wanted you all dead one by one."

Both Porthos and d'Artganan exchanged glances, both men nodding.

oo

Tréville closed his eyes and took in a breath, he exhaled with sheer relief as he let his head fall back against the stone wall. They had the proof they had been searching for.

Cardinal Durand was the traitor.

ooooOOoooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Really sorry for the late posting, been busy with work.**

**I hope you still continue to read the story.**

**I now believe Tréville has all the proof he needs to bring down Durand.**

**Will the concoction work on Athos' eyes? **

**Until next time...I will do my upmost to post next weekend.**

**Thank you again for your comments, love them.**

**Cheers**

**Pippa xxxx**

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	29. Chapter 29

**Hi Guys,**

**I am so sorry for the very late posting, have been so so busy with work. Not even finding a bit of time to myself. I really hope everyone is staying safe and well with all that is happening at the moment. I do hope you will stay with the story. Will the king realise the truth about the cardinal?**

**Speak soon **

**Pippa xxxx**

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Twenty Nine.**

The muffled rap at the door prompted Aramis to glance up as Porthos and d'Artagnan suddenly entered the infirmary. Athos was still sleeping soundly, his injured body laying inclined, the muslin bandages wrapped around his eyes.

Both musketeers swapped perplexed frowns as they stared at their sleeping brother before turning to Aramis with questioning looks.

Porthos was first to ask.

"What the hell is...

Aramis couldn't oppress his mirth as he percieved their bemused faces. The medic grinned.

"Apparently the blood flows to the head when the body is inclined gentlemen, hence the eyes also."

Both Porthos and d'Artagnan stared back at Athos.

"Does he know what he actually looks like? murmered Porthos sounding almost perplexed by the whole appearance of his injured brother.

Aramis quirked a brow.

"He was awake when the mixture was administered, he never said a word." answered the medic.

d'Artagnan moved closer to Athos' side.

"I really hope this works, I have never seen the like before." whispered the Gascon as not to rouse his sleeping friend.

Aramis reclaimed his seat and glanced up at his two friends.

"Doroux informed me that it has worked on two people before now." he declared.

Porthos pulled up a chair and sat, his features filled with trepidation as he prayed in his own mind that his dear brother would see again.

Aramis' voice broke his reverie.

"How did you both fare with the prisoners, I trust they still live? he asked almost sardonically and raising both brows.

Porthos snorted with mild disapproval and smirked.

d'Artagnan patted his big friend on the back.

"He was indeed very lenient I might add." murmered the Gascon.

Aramis stood and began to pour wine in three goblets.

"Eudes and Jules apprehended the other renegade. To cut a long story short mon ami, one of them confessed...they were working for Durand all the time." declared the big musketeer.

Aramis handed around the wine.

"Let us indeed hope they disclose such a deed to the king, otherwise gentlemen we are back to where we began."

Porthos swigged from the goblet and peered at the medic.

"Come now Mis...have some faith, besides they both believe they will be sailing from LaHarve for a new life."

Aramis held up his goblet in celebration and grinned slightly.

"In that case I revoke my words my friend."

"The prisoners will be taken to the palace on the morrow, the king will then be told of their deciet and treachery." murmered d'Artagnan.

"What of the two Englishmen confined in the Bastille? asked Aramis.

"The king has asked they be taken back to England for King Charles to deal with." snorted Porthos.

Aramis swigged from his goblet.

"I am somewhat surprised the king didn't have them both hanged for committing such heinous crime on French soil, afterall they are as just as guilty as the other two renegades."

oooo

**Palace:**

Captain Tréville was first through the large ornate doors of the royal assembly chamber. The king was reclined back in his seat, an elbow leaning on the chair armrest.

Cardinal Durand stood to the kings left, Treville hadn't failed to notice how his demeanour suddenly changed from the relaxed cleric to almost agitation as he spotted the two prisoners.

Louis watched as the two reprobates were led into the assembly chamber, the young monarch figited in his chair as he turned slightly and eyed the Cardinal.

Captain Tréville caught Louis's swift knowing glance, before turning back to the prsioners. Both Porthos and d'Artagnan nudged them both forward roughly towards the king.

"Bow before your king." growled Porthos.

Both men caught each others glances as they sauntered forward.

Louis glared as the men awkwardly bowed their heads, his lips twitching with slight mirth at the sheer attempt to show decorum.

Cardinal Durand took out his hankerchief, his trembling hand wiping his brow.

Porthos and d'Artagnan side glanced each other as the cleric endeavoured to keep his composure.

Tréville's voice suddenly filled the chamber.

"Your majesty, the two reprobates whom tried to have one of my men killed and another imprisoned for a crime he did not commit."

Louis eyed both men, his eyes averting from one to the other as he perceived the filthy rags that hung on their bodies.

Durand stood rigid to the spot as he refused to make any sort of eye contact with the two prisoners.

"I trust you are both aware that you have committed an act of treason and the penalty for such a crime is hanging." asked the king in strident tones.

Both men side glanced each other, their features pallid and filled with dread.

"ANSWER THE KING! yelled the musketeer captain, his voice reverberating off the ornate walls.

One of the men swallowed hard and glanced up at the young monarch.

"We...were...ordered to...do the deed your majesty." he grunted.

Durand could feel the musketeers eyes on him, he wanted to vomit.

Louis swiftly stood and began to pace, he paused and looked straight at Durand.

"Are you well Cardinal, you are indeed looking quite pale?

Durand bowed his head slightly.

"I feel fine Sire, just a mild pain in the head, I am sure it will pass."

Tréville glanced at his two musketeers, both attempting to stifle their mirth.

"You will inform his majesty whom ordered you to kill my musketeers in turn before killing me." he growled.

All eyes fixed their stares on the prisoners as they awaited the response.

Captain Tréville hadn't taken his eyes off Durand, the cleric was almost swaying on his feet.

The king suddenly turned to the prisoners and pointed to the taller of the two men.

"YOU! speak man, have you lost your tongue? My musketeer Captain asked you a question."

Porthos and d'Artagnan side glanced each other before averting their eyes to Durand. The man was perspiring profusely, he dabbed his brow repeatedly.

This time the smaller of the two men stood forward, his gaze fixed on the agitated cleric as he lifted his hand and pointed towards him.

"It was...'im...he demanded that we...killed all the musketeer regiment...and if we refused he would 'ave us executed."

A silence fell on the assembly chamber as the man declared his revelation.

Durand glared at the two men, his features that of crimson hues as he began to laugh nervously, before turning to Louis.

"This is a mockery Sire, I have never seen these men before in my entire life, it seems evident to me that someone somewhere is conspiring to have me vanquished from office."

Tréville glanced towards Louis, he knew the monarch well, he could feel the anger festering within his very sole as he stared at Durand.

Louis suddenly shifted from his standing position and slowly moved towards Durand.

"You have served by my side in the most honourable of occurrences, am I to believe the word of these two oafs or that of my dear friend and confidant the cardinal."

Durand swayed slightly as he shot a hateful glance towards Tréville before turning back to Louis. The kings eyes met his.

"ANSWER ME CARDINAL!...and this time I want the truth.

oooOOooo

**TBC...**

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	30. Chapter 30

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Thirty.**

A heavy silence had fallen on the entire chamber as all eyes stared in anticipation at Cardinal Durand, the question asked of him by the king was swirling around his head.

"Answer me Cardinal and this time I do not want fallacious tales and untruths do you heed me?

_Those interfering musketeers have once again thwarted my plans, how dare they even have such right as to stand before me , you are nothing more than dolts, Tréville is not worthy of such an honourable rank._

"I am still waiting Cardinal, I shall not ask again." demanded Louis sounding enraged and prompting Durand from his reverie.

Captain Tréville continued his stare, the cleric declining to even make eye contact with the musketeer captain.

Porthos and d'Artganan stood almost statuesque as they too perceived Durands agitated demeanour, both musketeers swapping discrete glances.

Durand's features were covered in beads of perspiration as he figited with his robe sleeves, he turned and looked at Louis.

"I was merely performing my expected duties Sire, looking out for your majesties welfare and security, that is all, why would I want to have your elite guard killed? The last few words sounding almost mocking.

Tréville could feel rage filling his whole body as he heeded the clerics untruths, he cast a glance towards his two men both catching the older mans vexed features.

"Your majesty the cardinal is a liar, it is etched upon his deceitful face." growled Tréville, his arm outstretched and pointing towards the ruffled cleric.

Durand snorted and chuckled nervously, his head shaking with the false disbelief as he rolled his eyes.

"Sire...the musketeer captain is a man whom is excellent at hoodwinking his superiors. I do believe he is known for it all over France."

The king had stood once again and slowly flounced towards Durand, he turned and looked into his agitated face.

"Are you informing me cardinal, that the words of Captain Tréville are untrue and someone else endeavoured to murder musketeer Athos and have musketeer d'Artagnan imprisoned on fallacious crime?

Durand swallowed the bile in his throat and grinned mockingly.

"Indeed I am Sire."

The cardinal turned to the two prisoners and glared.

"It would seem these two oafs are guilty of that, they are merely trying to escape the noose."

The two renegades figited.

Porthos had obliviously clenched his fists with sheer anger as he cast an enraged glance at d'Artagnan. The Gascon could feel his friends incensed presence beside him. _Would the king believe this tale?_

The fury on Tréville's face was evident as he glared with a tightened jaw at Durand. The cleric still refusing to even look his way as he moved forward.

"The two Englishmen, with whom he travelled with, I am certain they will speak out if prompted." he growled vehemently. "And Deacon Arouet...why was he suddenly found dead?

Tréville glared at the cardinal as he continued his probe.

"Why did he die...was it he found out about your malevolent schemes?

Durand clenched his jaw tightly, this time his glare found Tréville's fired up and intense stare.

The king lifted his gaze and peered at Tréville.

"Come now Tréville, let us keep this civil." he said through muted tones.

Durand smirked as Louis spoke.

"It would seem the captain thinks he is judge, jury and executioner Sire."

Louis turned his head swiftly and glared at the cleric, he had always had his doubts about the man, he had never been as honourable as Cardinal Richelieu, always something amiss, even though he knew that Captain Tréville would never agree about Richelieu, but this was not about him it was about Durand. Even Anne had warned him of his decieit.

Louis suddenly gestured with his right hand at one of the red guards.

The man stood to attention and swiftly strode towards the king.

Tréville exchanged glances with his two musketeers, the three men evidently appearing both dubious and angry at what was occuring.

The guard halted his stride in front of Louis and bowed.

"Your majesty?

Louis eyed the guard before turning to Durand.

"Have the two English prisoners brought to me forthwith."

Tréville smirked slightly prompting both Porthos and d'Artagnan to swap intrigued glances.

The guard bowed again.

"Yes your majesty." he said as he turned and walked towards the doors.

Durand swallowed hard before dabbing his brow, his head spinning with scenarios.

_If anyone will remain honourable to me it would be the Englishmen._

Tréville couldn't contain his anger any longer.

"It would seem you have become rather pale Your Eminence." he muttered.

Durand glared at the musketeer captain.

oo

The king slowly wandered towards his table and began to pour out wine, he swigged from the goblet and glanced out of the window before tuning back into the chamber.

Captain Tréville and his two men stood patiently as they awaited the English prisoners. The musketeer captain paced back and forth, Porthos and d'Artagnan swapping raised brows, both baffled at the predicament they found themselves in.

Cardinal Durand stood rigid, his eyes following the kings every move as he refilled his goblet without offering any refreshment to his audience. Durand wanted to vomit, how was he to escape such cirumstances, his mind was a labyrinth of thoughts as he suddenly moved with a start and looked across at the king.

Tréville and his men watched as the cardinal suddenly and very slowly strode towards the king and bowed his head.

"Forgive me Sire, but if I might be permitted to return to my chambers in order to acquire the prisoners arrest parchments for yourself to look upon."

The king caught Tréville's eye as Durand's voice broke the silence, his agitated voice evident to both men.

The kings footfalls echoed as he walked slowly towards his seat and sat, he turned and looked at Durand, his features impassive.

"You take me as a fool do you not Cardinal? he asked stridently.

Durand smiled nervously and snorted.

"Certainly not Sire, you are my king, I serve you." he said.

Tréville glared at Durand.

"Your majesty, I am certain musketeer's Porthos and d'Artagnan would be gladdened to accompany the cardinal to his chambers."

Durand glared at the musketeer captain.

Porthos and d'Artagnan both bowed in unison towards the king.

"Certainly your majesty."

Louis waved his hand.

"Very well, be swift about it."

Tréville caught his two mens glances as they strode past him, all three men having silent converse between themselves.

ooo

Cardinal Durand meandered briskly along the passageway towards his chambers, his long cloak billowing out as he walked, his features stern as he went, knowing the two musketeers were in close pursuit behind him.

Porthos and d'Artagnan watched as he paused outside his chamber door and turn.

"You can await here for me whilst I retrieve the parchments, I shall be swift."

Porthos grinned slightly and shook his head.

"I do not think so Your Eminence, we were ordered not to let you out of our sight." growled the big man.

d'Artagnan moved towards the door and opened it, he turned to Durand and raised a brow.

"After you Your Eminence." he mutted.

The cardinal looked from one to the other before walking into his office.

Both musketeers followed him closely, the young men swapping glances.

Durand began to nervously rummage through his scrolls and parchments, his hands trembled slightly, before he took a key from his pocket and opened a small chest of drawers.

Porthos and d'Artagnan began to roam slowly around the chamber as Durand searched for his parchments unaware that man was watching their every move. The cleric reached for a small phial, his hands still trembled as he shook it and took off the spigot cap. Durand mutted to himself before bringing up the phial to his lips

"NO YOU DON'T" roared Porthos as he suddenly surged forward and grabbed the cardinal by the arm.

"YOU DON'T ESCAPE THAT EASILY...YOU BLOODY COWARD!

oooOOooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Hope you are all ok, sorry again for the late posting. Have been really busy with all kinds going on.**

**I am so pleased you are still enjoying the story, I will continue to write.**

**Well what is next for Durand? **

**Stay safe guys.**

**Thank you**

**Pippa xxx**

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	31. Chapter 31

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Thirty One.**

Captain Tréville stood almost rooted to the spot as he threw the Cardinal enraged and sickening glances. This so called Holy man had just attempted to take his own life by poison, he felt slight elation that his men had accompanied him to his chambers, they had thwarted his attempt, otherwise they may never have ascertain of his true crimes.

The musketeer captain then averted his eyes to the two Englishmen, they had been brought forthwith at the order of the king to the Palace, both men stood side by side, their hands shackled behind their backs as they perceived with agitation the spectical before them. James Payne and Ned Wade had both confessed to the king their actual implication into Cardinal Durands plot, Durand becoming paler as the minutes ticked by.

Also present was Cardinal Durands Confidant Benedict Edgar, the man could feel the musketeers captians eyes on him as he stood awaiting the crimes to be announced against his holy superior. Tréville had not known much about the small thin man, only that he seemed to disappear into the background of any event and whispering into the Cardinals ear.

Durand stood rigid and uneasy between Porthos and d'Artagnan, his features pallad to say the least as he swallowed the bile in his throat. The two musketeers swapped vexatious glances with each other, both men knowing full well what each other was thinking.

The king glared enraged at Durand, slowly sauntering towards the cleric, Louis paused and eyed the older man as though he could see right through to his very sole.

Durand continued his stare ahead, his stance that of someone who knew that his time was indeed up.

_Those interfering damn musketeers, Richelieu was right about them. And those English oafs, I should have heeded my own foreboding inclination and returned to France without them, they have betrayed me._

Louis began to pace back and forth before pausing and shooting his glare towards Durand.

"You have disappointed me Cardinal, you have conspired behind my back, you have committed high treason by plotting with King Charles to have his men spy on my affairs, you have colluded with oafs to have my musketeers murdered in cold blood."

Louis continued to pace before turning swiflty and staring into the clerics ashen face.

"Musketeer Athos may never see again, because of your malicious ill will. You had Musketeer d'Artagnan imprisoned for a crime he did not commit.

The Gascon's eyes averted to Durand, the cleric did not look his way.

Tréville looked up swiftly as the king mentioned his lieutenant's plight, he caught his two mens glances as the king yelled at the cleric.

Porthos side glanced Durand, anger evident in the big mans features as he clenched his fists obliviously.

Tréville averted his eyes back to Durand, the man seemed to have aged ten years within a matter of hours. The musketeer captain had no sympathy for the man, he had reaped what he had indeed sowed.

Louis stood closer to Durand now as he reproached him, the seething look of fury as he glared into his face.

"WHAT HAVE YOU TO SAY ON SUCH DEEDS AS THESE Cardinal? he roared.

Cardinal Durand stood statuesque, his face suddenly suffused with crimson as he became almost as angry as the king.

That instant Benedict Edgar's voice filled the stifled air prompting everyone to glance his way.

The cardinals confidant bowed before Louis.

"Your majesty...If you will forgive my intrusion...might I be permitted to speak on behalf of the Cardinal?

The king and Tréville swapped glances swiflty before Louis turned back to the timid looking man.

"What is there to speak of man, you heeded the charges did you not?

Edgar cowered slightly.

"I did indeed your majesty...but...

Louis continued in strident tones.

"NO BUTS MAN...the Cardinal has not only conspired behind my back he has betrayed me, he has schemed, he has plotted...I want to know what he himself has to say about such treason as this."

All eyes turned to Durand, the man swayed slightly as he slowly moved forward. He licked his dry lips as he shot an uneasy glance at Louis.

"I was merely thinking of France your majesty, your own well being, the musketeers are becoming rather deficient and dated, I wanted a fresh regiment, I was...

Tréville glared enraged as Durand spoke.

"So you took it upon yourself to endeavour to get rid of my men...by killing them...YOU ARE A MAD MAN! he yelled vehemently.

Tréville extended his arm and pointed his finger at Durand.

"This man is a lair, he is excellent at telling fairy stories."

Porthos and d'Artagnan swapped swift disgruntled glances.

Louis held up his hand to pause Tréville before turning back to Durand.

"On occasions I have had cause not to heed advice from my dignitaries and the like, but this is not one of them Cardinal, this time I decisively agree with Captain Tréville, you are a liar and a traitor, you have gone quite mad, I denounce you."

The king looked from Porthos to d'Artagnan.

"Take him to the Bastille...I do not want to look at him a moment longer he has cut me to the quick."

"It will be my pleasure your majesty." murmered Porthos under his breath, only d'Artagnan heeded the words.

Durand swallowed hard, his face was white, his eyes bulged with fear as both musketeers grabbed him by the arms and marched him from the chamber.

"I implore you your majesty...I am at your mercy...your majesty...please...I beg your forgivness...

The Cardinals voice trailed off as the doors slammed shut behind them.

Benedict Edgar dropped his head into his hands.

"GUARDS! roared Louis, his voice sounding almost hoarse amid the anger.

"Get these renegades out of my chambers...I am feeling rather giddy."

oooo

**Musketeer Garrison**

**Infirmary:**

Doctor Lemay carefully unwrapped the muslin cloths from Athos' eyes, disgarding them onto the table he caught Aramis watching his every move, both men hoping the concoction had worked.

The swordsman was sitting upright in bed as Lemay tendered him carefully.

"I have to say...it was uncomfortable trying to sleep with these on my eyes." murmered Athos suddenly.

Aramis grinned slightly.

"I dare say mon ami...I dare say."

"The mixture has left your face rather viscid Athos, if you would be so kind Aramis and pass me the warm water." asked Lemay.

Before Lemay finshed Aramis had brought the bowl of water across and began to wash his friends face carefully.

"I shall do that doctor, its the least I can do." commented the marksman wringing out the cloth.

"Gentlemen please...I am certain I can wash my own face." said Athos flatly.

Aramis and Leamy swapped slightly amusing glances.

"In the infirmary my friend I am in charge...you are the patient." murmered Aramis. "And usually a very bad one at that."

Athos still wore a binding around his eyes as he lifted his head towards the sound of Aramis' voice.

"Aramis my friend you are indeed the mother hen of mother hens." murmered the swordsman with a hint of mirth.

"I shall now remove the last binding Athos." interjected Lemay. "If you would hold your head very still for me."

Aramis watched as the doctor began to slowly unwrap the last muslin bandage from his friends eyes. The medic becoming slightly nauseous as he prayed under his breath that Athos would indeed recover his sight, scenarios swirled around the marksmans head as he watched Lemay, obliviously feeling for his crucifix around his neck, Aramis put his lips to it and kissed it softly.

Lemay disgarded the bandage into a bowl, he turned back to Athos and wiped the swordmans eyes with a damp cloth.

Aramis took in a breath with anticipation as he looked at his friend.

"Athos...look at me...tell me...what do you see? asked Lemay.

oooOOooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Sorry about the cliffy...I know I am a tease!**

**Hope you are all doing ok and staying safe.**

**I know some rules have been relaxed, but we still have to be careful.**

**I am actually having my hair cut on Wednesday...I look like the wreck of the Hesperus. **

**Anyway guys I hope you are still reading the story and enjoying it. I thank you for it.**

**Speak soon**

**Take care**

**Pippa xxxx**

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	32. Chapter 32

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Thirty Two.**

Athos felt his stomach churn as Doctor Lemay wiped away the sediment and dregs from the swordmans face. Why was it he still could not see, he could just make out the outline of his dear friend Aramis, he knew the medic was staring at him in anticipation, he also knew he had gone suddenly silent, was he thinking the same as he, was it he would not recover his sight again.

"Tell me Athos...what do you see? came Lemay's anxious voice.

Athos felt Aramis squeeze his shoulder lightly.

"Athos? murmered the marksman sounding hesitant.

The swordman swallowed the lump in his throat and lifted his head slowly towards the anxious voices.

"You both look as if you are in fog." he choked.

Both Aramis and Lemay swapped perturbed glances between each other.

"I believe we should endeavour to strive with another concoction this night, my good friend did state it may take a couple of attempts." suggested Lemay.

Aramis nodded in agreement as he ushered Lemay out of ear shot to Athos.

"And suppose it does not work, I had every faith in your friend doctor, may I ask you? will it work or will it not? are we wasting our time?

Lemay pursed his lips tightly and scratched his head.

"He was in complete darkness before Aramis, at least now he can see outlines of us, that is a good thing, I would say it has rid something from his eyes."

Aramis heeded the doctors wise words, he nodded slowly as he took in the physicians advise.

_Maybe he is right, it may take more attempts, I fear I have expected too much._

Aramis followed the physician back to Athos' bedside.

"We are going to try with another mixture Athos, I believe it may regain your eyesight even better than the last, at least you can see outlines." said Lemay catching the marksmans glance.

The swordsman lay back against the pillows and sighed, he glanced up at the two outlines that stood over him.

_Am I to lose my commission in the musketeers, will I ever draw a sword again or weild a pistol, what has become of me, is this punishment for my past life._

Both Lemay and Aramis swapped eye contact across the bed.

"Athos my friend, did you heed what doctor Lemay advised...we shall mix another concoction and rewrap you eyes, we must endeavour to keep trying." said Aramis softly.

Lemay nodded as he glanced at the swordsmans downhearted frown.

"We shall continue to try Athos." he muttered.

"Do what you must...it is not as though I am departing on a mission anytime soon." answered the swordman coarsely. "I may only hinder your contingency."

Aramis squeezed his friends shoulder.

"I have complete faith in the good doctor mon ami."

Lemay nodded slightly in acknowledgement.

oooo

**Bastille.**

"You are an incompetent fool Edgard." yelled Durand as he paced the damp cell ground.

Durnads confidant sat cowering as he endured his superiors wrath.

"Your...eminence...I strived to make the king see sense...he would not listen."

Durand turned sharply, his teeth clenched, saliva emitting into the air as he spat out enraged words.

"You did not try hard enough then did you, I should have known...I should not have heeded Clement Arouets words when he recommended you to me...you are a complete and utter dolt."

Edgard stood.

"It seems I displease you so your eminence...I shall take my leave this instant."

The small holy man began to approach the cell doors.

Durand was suddenly in his path prompting him to pause in his tracks.

Colour drained from Edgards features as he stared up into Durand enraged face.

"Do not think for a moment that you escape that easily you idiotic fool, maybe I had the wrong man killed afterall, it was you who should have died in the forest not Arouet."

Edgard stared perplexed at his superior.

"It seems the musketeers were right, they had misgivings about the whole saga. I myself was dumbfounded at such defamation, I never thought for a moment you could commit such a heinous deed as murder."

Beads of sweat had formed on Durands enraged and crimson face as he glared at Edgard.

"How dare you utter such words to my face." he roared.

"WHY...WHAT IS IT YOU INTEND TO DO DURAND? came the sudden growl from the dark passageway. "WAS THAT A CONFESSION?

Both Durand and Edgard turned sharply as Porthos and d'Artagnan emerged into view, their instant presence casting shadows on the damp walls, orange glows illuminated the cell as d'Artagnan held a lighted torch above his head.

Durand swallowed hard as he glared in horror at both musketeers, they had heeded every word he had uttered to Edgard.

"You will address me as your eminence musketeer, I may be confined to a cell but I am still Cardinal Durand."

Porthos and d'Artagnan exchanged raised brows before turning back to Durand.

Porthos reached into his pocket and took out a parchment.

Durand watched his every move with anticipation. He could feel his guts beginning to churn, how he wanted to vomit.

Porthos held up the missive.

"I am about to add to your woes...you have been denounced by his majesty the king, word has been conveyed to His Holiness Pope Urban Vlll as we speak, you are no longer Cardinal."

Durand patted his forehead with a hankerchief, his hands trembled, his features pallid.

"It would seem your ecclesiastical status is rescinded Monsieur." added d'Artagnan. "You will remain here until we have word from His Holiness."

Edgard slowly walked from the cell, he stood between the two musketeers and shook his head before glancing at Durand.

"You ignoramus fool, this is all your doing...I shall have my day." seethed Durand.

Edgard said nothing as he walked away into the darkness.

d'Artganan approached the cell door and stared into Durands enraged features.

"You did this to yourself." he muttered.

Porthos turned to the guard and nodded.

"Lock the door, we are finished here."

Durand watched as the two musketeers walked away and disappeared into the darkness. He sat on his makeshift bed and put his head in his hands, the guard slammed the door shut with a thud, just the sound of the key turning and rasping in the lock could be heard as it reverberated off the cell walls.

ooooOOoooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Guys,**

**Sorry for the late posting lately, I am really busy at the moment with work. I hope you are all well and safe with what is happening at the moment.**

**This is a short chapter.**

**Will Athos recover his sight? Let us hope the concoction works a second time.**

**Speak soon guys.**

**Pippa xxxx**

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	33. Chapter 33

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Thirty Three.**

**Musketeer Garrison.**

"I am most pleased my friends, it must have been quite a spectical to have Durand actually confess his true crimes, I would like to have witnessed his face when you both emerged from the darkness." said Aramis.

The musketeers were sitting at their usual table in the courtyard of the garrison having had an hour of sparring.

Porthos chuckled as he picked up a pitcher and poured ale into his tankard.

"You could say that, I thought he was about to rupture a gasket."

Aramis and d'Artagnan laughed aloud at the big mans comments.

"I believe we timed it well." added the Gascon taking a swig of ale. "It worked admirably for all."

Aramis patted d'Artagnan on the back and smiled.

"Yeah...the captain 'as been smilin' from ear to ear since." growled Porthos.

"It would seem a good job was done by the both of you, the captains delight is expected." grinned Aramis.

That instant d'Artagnan stared past his two friends with raised brows.

"What is he doing? he exclaimed.

Both Aramis and Porthos turned their heads swiftly as the Gascon suddenly leaped to his feet.

Aramis and Porthos swapped perplexed glances as they watched Athos struggle to walk and find his bearings, the swordsman was clinging to the stone wall as he slowly put one foot in front of the other and approached the voices.

"What the hell." gasped Aramis as he began to rush towards his friend followed by Porthos and d'Artagnan.

Aramis stood in Athos' path and grabbed his free arm.

"Just what in Gods name do you think you are doing Athos? you are in no fit state to be out of bed let alone go walking around." berated the medic.

Athos lifted his face towards the sound of an angry Aramis, he could just make out the outline of Porthos and d'Artagnan as he took in his surroundings.

"I am growing weary and bored, I wanted some fresh air." replied the ailing musketeer.

Porthos shook his head in disbelief and sighed aloud.

"You 'eard Mis...you are in not fit state 'Thos...and you need to rest your eyes...and your wearing yer shirt back to front."

Aramis shook his head slightly and rolled his eyes.

d'Artagnan squeezed Athos' shoulder prompting the swordsman to flinch slightly as he turned his head.

"Come now my friend, lets get you back in there, we shall keep you company."

Athos am I to get Porthos to throw you over his shoulder or are you going back to bed where you belong, that wound in your side is still raw." declared Aramis shooting a glance to his big friend. "We do not want it becoming infected."

All eyes glared at the swordsman as he clung to the wall.

"Porthos would be a fool to attempt it, he knows better than to even think such a thing, I just want to sit at the table and drink ale with you."

Porthos' loud belly laugh reverberated around the garrison courtyard.

"Do you wanna put that to the test 'thos, your as weak as a bloody kitten...If I picked you up now there ain't nothing you are going to do about it."

Athos scowled as he tugged free of Aramis grasp prompting the medic to scratch his head with iritation.

"Athos my friend come now, you are becoming your stubborn as a mule self, I implore you to come back to bed." urged Aramis.

Athos suddenly turned his back on his friends and began his slow meander back from whence he came.

"Very well mother hens...you win...I shall do as you ask...it seems I am outnumbered.

Porthos chuckled.

"Yeah...told yer!

Aramis took Athos by the arm.

"Come...lets get you back...remember Lemay is binding your eyes later."

Athos grunted with vexation.

"And suppose it does not work again...am I to resign my commission and live the rest of my life in fog?

Aramis caught the sympathetic looks from Porthos and d'Artagnan as the swordsman ranted.

"Have some faith my friend, we will endeavour with the treatment until your vision returns. God will do what is best." he comforted.

"God had no part in this." growled Athos as Aramis aided him through the infirmary doors.

oooo

**Following Day**

**Palace Main Hall.**

The sound of indistinct mingled voices gave forth to a low humming around the main hall of the palace. Dignitaries and court officials filled the entire chamber. Suddenly the large doors were thrown open as the king and queen entered followed by captain Tréville, Porthos and d'Artagnan prompting the hum of voices to cease.

The throng of courtiers and dignitaries bowed in unison as the two young monarchs strode past them towards their thrones. Also present was a small group of cardinals representing His Holiness The Pope.

Queen Anne fixed her gown around her seated form as she looked up at her audience, her pale and beautiful features serious as Louis stood and glared across the hall towards his guards before turning swiftly to his dignitaries.

The court officials stood in a row, all eight adorned in black attire with white mantles around their shoulders, Louis turned to them, each man bowing to his king.

Louis turned back to his guards.

"Bring forth the prisoner." he yelled.

All eyes of the entire chamber turned as the doors were suddenly opened. Durand was led in by two red guards. His face ashen as he kept his eyes downcast to the floor. The drone of voices began to hum once more as Durand made his way past the crowd towards the court officials. Anne and Louis swapping swift glances as he neared them.

Tréville glared in his direction, how he had deceived the entire monarchy and musketeer regiment for his own personal gain. Now he was reaping what he had sown.

Durand was led to a wooden plinth were he stood facing the court officials. The clerics swapped serious and enraged glances as Durand stood with his hands tethered in front of himself.

The principal court official slowly sauntered towards the high table, he bowed to both monarchs before averting his eyes towards Durands direction.

"Cardinal Theodore de Durand you are charged with the heinous crime of high treason, how do you plead? he asked in strident tones.

The cardinal lifted his face slowly, he caught a glimpse of Louis and Anne staring right at him, before he noticed Tréville and two of his musketeers glaring in his direction.

"Not guilty Monsieur...an error of judgement has been made."

Porthos and d'Artagnan side glanced each other, both knowing what each other was thinking, the man was unbelievable.

Both Louis and Anne were akin in their thinking as the king shook his head in disgust at the mans sheer audacity.

The principal official stared at Durand.

"Prey tell me Monsieur...are the accusations false? he asked sounding almost aghast.

Before Durand could reply the Captain Tréville move forward and stood beside the king.

All eyes were upon him.

"Forgive my intrusion Monseiur...there is sufficient evidence you may want to hear." growled the musketeer captain.

The low hum of intrigued voices emmitted once again.

Porthos and d'Artagnan exchanged contented but knowing glances.

The court official turned to Louis, his features that of anger at being interupted.

"Your majesty?

The king was resting his head on his hand as he glanced from Tréville to the court official, he suddenly sat up straight and nodded.

"I will permit this evidence...I trust captain Tréville with my life."

Tréville bowed to Louis as he passed a parchment to the principal official.

The man read the missive before placing it down in front of his associates.

The officials whispered into each others ears.

The entire chamber still hummed low.

"This should be interestin.' " murmered Porthos under his breath, only d'Artagnan could heed his words.

The Gascon raised his brows and nodded slightly in acknowledgement.

The principal court official suddenly stood.

"The court will heed new evidence." he yelled. "Guards if you will bring forth Monsieur's Ned Wade and James Payne."

Durands eyes bulged as he glared towards Tréville, he wanted to vomit up his entire stomach contents,

_Surley they would not betray me now, am I finished, am I to be exiled, am I to be executed..._he could feel the musketeers staring at him, he could swear he could see them smiling.

The large doors were suddenly opened, the two Englishmen were ushered in by two red guards, their hands shackled behind their backs. The thrum of low voices erupted once again as the two men meandered towards the officials, Ned Wade caught the enraged eyes of Durand as he was ushered past him.

The principal official stood swiflty, the low hum waned.

The king nodded towards him to proceed.

"I summon James Payne first...do you know this man as Cardinal Durand?

Durand glared, his jaw twitched.

James Payne stared back at him, he swallowed hard and glanced back at the court.

"I do Sir."

"Did this man give you an order to have the Musketeer Regiment slain?

Payne glanced from Ned Wade to Tréville. He could see the fire in Trévilles eyes, he was a man he would not want to ever cross again, he held his life in his hands. All he wanted was to return to England, would they get that wish, his mouth was dry as he turned to the court.

"He did Sir, we were ordered to kill the musketeers one by one."

The whole chamber began to give forth an indistinct sound of mingled voices as people began to take in what they had heard.

Durnad closed his eyes with enrage, his head falling forward with wretched misery.

Tréville averted his eyes towards Porthos and d'Artagnan, both musketeers giving him a slight nod of approval.

The king and queen exchanged glances of inconceivable vexation.

The hum waned as Ned Wade was summoned, all eyes watched him as he moved forward to the court officials.

"Monsieur Wade...were you also ordered to have the musketeers killed?

Ned Wade was staring at the ornate floor before lifting up his head towards the court.

"I was indeed Sir, we were told that we would be hanged if we defied an order."

Durand wanted the floor to swallow him up as all eyes fixed their stares upon his very being, how was he to escape this foreboding mortification.

The principal official turned swiflty towards Durand.

"It would seem you are indeed doomed Durand...you have lied to the court, you have committed high treason, you have conspired behind your kings back, you have plotted to have his majesties elite guard murdered for your own gain, what have you to say on such matters as these?

Durand wanted to run, he knew he couldn't, how he wanted to wipe that smirk from Tréville's face.

ooooOOoooo

**TBC...**

**Hello Guys,**

**Hope you are all safe and well.**

**Sorry in advance for the late posting, still very busy with work.**

**Will do my best to update ASAP!**

**Thank you for you fabulous comments, love them.**

**Speak Soon**

**Pippa xxx**

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	34. Chapter 34

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Thirty Four.**

The entire hall had fell silent as the king stood and approached Durand slowly, the young royals features seemed rather reserved and inscrutable as he stared vacantly at his former minister, his jaw twitched slightly, evident enrage etched on his features.

Durand lifted his head as the king neared, his face pallid, the man seemed to have aged ten years in a matter of days.

Louis glared at the former cleric from head to toe before turning and re-claiming his stance beside his throne. Anne swappped an empathetic glance towards her husband as he gestured towards the court principal to approach.

All eyes watched as the king handed a parchment to the man. The principal bowed and returned to his table.

Durand wanted to throw up, he could feel his legs becoming weak, bile had risen in his throat as he watched the principal read down the page and pass it to his associate. His head was a turmoil of scenarios as he pursed his dry lips tightly.

_Surely I shall be banished to Rome, I will probably live out my days within the underground cells of the Basilica , or wiill Louis have me exiled from France, this oaf of a king is an imbecile, whoever takes over my role will soon discover such behaviour._

Durand was suddenly shaken from his reverie as the principal's voice reverberated around the hall. The popes representative moved towards him as the verdict was prepared to be read.

"Cardinal Theodore de Durand, you have been found guilty of high treason, you are now excommunicated, you will be taken from this place and incarcerated within the Colosseum Dungeons in Rome to await execution."

Captain Tréville side glanced Porthos and d'Artagnan as the principal spoke. Each musketeer swapping discreet but jubilant mirth.

Queen Anne lifted her face towards Durand as the verdict was read, before turning her gaze upon her husband. The king glared inscrutable at the doomed cleric.

_How was this man ever permitted into his palace, I should have heeded Tréville's warning from the beginning, the man has a habit of turning out right._

Durand's featues had turned a grey hue, his hands trembled, bile had entered his throat, he wanted to throw up, He conceived mentally what had just been declared.

The principal spoke again.

"TAKE HIM!

_How could his Holiness denounce him in such a way...to execute me would be an abomination._

"Your majesty...I plead for your mercy...I was ephemeral insane, I implore you majesty to see fit to...

Durand was silenced as two guards suddenly seized him.

Porthos grunted under his breath.

"'ow the mighty fall."

d'Artagnan raised both brows as he shot a glance to the big musketeer.

"I am somewhat dumbfounded." he said through muted tones. "I was indeed half expecting the pope to grant him clemency."

Tréville inhaled deeply as he heeded his mens words.

"Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill." he muttered.

Both musketeers turned to their superior with perplexed crinkled brows prompting Tréville to grin slightly.

"Shakespeare!...I read it in a book Athos gave to me."

Porthos nodded with eyes wide and snorted with mirth.

"I'm impressed."

d'Artagnan turned to Tréville.

"I was not aware a Cardinal could be executed captain." he mumbled.

Tréville suddenly straightened his stance and stared across the hall.

"He is no longer a cardinal, the pope denounced him to the king for trail, he has shamed the Catholic Church, something His Holiness would never permit."

Porthos and d'Artagnan swapped knowing glances, prompting both musketeers to pause as Durand was led past them towards the doors.

Durand lifted his eyes and glared at Tréville for a second as he was almost dragged by two guards, a swift tug of the arm as the doomed cleric suddenly turned and roared towards the musketeer captian, the two guards holding him fast as he seethed.

"This is all your doing Tréville...I will have my day...you and your incompetent oafs."

Saliva spewed from his raging mouth as he yelled.

"You are finished Tréville...you...

"SILENCE...GET HIM OUT OF HERE! yelled the king.

Tréville neared the guards as they gripped Durand's arms tightly.

"I think you will find you did all this to yourself Monsieur." he mutted.

Durand's teeth were clenched, his jaw pulsated slightly as he stared at Tréville before casting a glance towards both musketeers.

Both Porthos and d'Artagnan stared vacantly at the shamed cleric.

The guards dragged him again, vanishing through the large doors before they were slammed behind them.

ooooo

**The Raven Tavern.**

**One Week Later:**

The raucous and rowdy laughter filled the stale air as Red Guard and patrons became more inebriated by the minute, the thudding sound of pewter tankards re-sounded around the entire tavern as the men jested and played their usual drunken games. The serving wench winding around the tables as she did her upmost to keep the mens drinking vessels filled with ale, now and again she would roll her eyes as certain individuals became far too familiar.

The night air was chilly as the four musketeers sauntered towards the Raven Tavern. Now and then each man would guide Athos as the swordsman wandered off unaware in a different direction due to his poor vision.

"Maybe you would be better linking your arm around mine my friend." muttered Aramis as he grasped his friends shoulders.

Athos paused in his tracks and scowled.

"Indeed I shall not...I am quite capable of walking by myself thank you...I do not require the aid of a mother hen's fussing."

Porthos snorted and laughed.

"You walk like you 'av already been drinkin' in the bloody tavern."

d'Artagnan and Aramis stiffled their mirth.

"It's been a week now and the concoction Lemay mixed still has not worked, maybe I am never to see satisfactory again." said the swordsman sounding defeated.

"Come now Athos...you are not as bad as you were, Lemay said your sight will become clearer as time goes by." commented d'Artagnan guiding his friend once again.

"Time...how long is time may I ask? growled the swordsman."

Porthos grinned as he pushed the tavern doors wide open. The sudden loud din of laughter emitted into the air.

Aramis scanned the room and spotted a vacant table in the corner, he nudged Athos to walk forward and headed straight for it. The marksman could feel the eyes watching them, Porthos and d'Artagnan caught his knowing glance, a silent conversation taking place between each man.

The rowdy and raucous noise waned rapidly as every red guard's head turned and stared at the four musketeers.

"Well well...it would seem Lazarus has stumbled upon the tavern and desires some wine." snorted one of the guards.

The musketeers swapped iritated glances as the entire room resonated loud sniggering laughter.

Athos inhaled and sighed.

"We should have gone to the Wren...this is aimed at me." he mutted.

Porthos squeezed his brothers shouder.

"I will not be turfed out of the tavern because these dolts decide to churp."

"Doth this mean the musketeers are immortal, maybe we should put it to the test lads...what do you say? yelled another.

A loud cheer reverberated around the tavern.

Porthos stood instantly.

"We came 'ere for a quiet drink...we never came for trouble."

"We heeded that Athos has lost his sight." sniggered another guard.

"It would seem you are no longer the best swordsman now musketeer." came another comment.

Athos suddenly stood prompting his three friends to join him. His face was full of rage as he stared blankly across the room.

"I do not need my full vision to skewer any of you." he growled.

Aramis put an arm across the swordman chest."

"Athos...do not take the bait mon ami." he murmured.

One guard slowly approached the table, his booted footfalls could be heard as the entire room fell silent again.

This time Porthos stood, the tall guard came face to face with the big man, both men glaring into each others boiling features. The big musketeers jaws clenched tightly as he kept his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"You wanna fight...I'll give you one." growled Porthos. "You rile one of us, you rile all of us."

d'Artagnan and Aramis swapped irksome glances.

ooooOOOoooo

**TBC**

**Hi Guys,**

**Hope you are all safe and well.**

**Sorry for another late posting, hope you will forgive me. Have been reall busy with both work and a sick relative.**

**Well what will become of the situation within the Tavern?**

**Thank you for your fab comments, love them.**

**Stay safe.**

**Pippa xxxx**

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	35. Chapter 35

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Thirty Five.**

**Raven Tavern...**

"My men have indeed come here for, shall I say...a quiet drink, if you red guard continue to rile and provoke I am certain his majesty the king would be most interested in heeding what I have to say about his red guard's behaviour."

Every eye in the room turned as Captain Tréville walked slowly from the rear of the tavern and joined his own men. His glare not shifting from the guard who stood next to Porthos. The big man's clenched jaw began to relax as he nodded towards his superior.

Tréville eyed the guard as he neared him.

"So if I was you I would join your friends and leave my men be, do I make myself clear? he said through sonorous tones.

"You treat them as children...can they not answer for themselves?

Porthos shifted before moving forward, he glared into the guards face.

"Thats our captain you are talking to, 'ave some bloody respect." he growled.

Aramis and d'Artagnan had joined the big musketeer, Aramis placing a hand on his shoulder muttered in his friends ear.

"Come mon ami...do not give them glee...they are drunk."

Porthos' glare diminished as he turned and followed his friends back to his seat.

The guard's glaring features waned as Porthos stood down, he caught Aramis and d'Artagnan's eyeline before returning to his comrades.

Tréville joined his musketeers, the din of low voices and sniggers persisted once again.

Aramis grinned as he poured ale into Treville's tankard, the older man took his seat next to Athos.

"Well captain it would seem they heeded your word." muttered the marksman glancing around the table at his brothers.

"I will speak with Captain Venell, I will not have my regiment targeted every time they have off duty relaxation." replied Tréville taking a swig of ale.

"No disrespest Captain, but I think we can take care of them oafs, they are just out to cause trouble." growled Porthos.

d'Artagnan raised his brows as he drank.

"Trying to impress their new recuits more like." mumbled the Gascon.

"New recuits? muttered Athos. "I trust the king knows of this charade, you do know Durand had the last word when it came to recuiting...hence the two Englishmen?

Tréville side glanced his lieutenant and nodded.

"Indeed...it has been noted, the king knows, he has his spies taking a particular interest."

"Tell me Athos, have your eyes improved? asked Tréville suddenly.

"Doctor Lemay is paying a visit on the morrow captain, he will be binding his eyes again." replied Aramis glancing across at his stubborn friend.

Athos stared across at Aramis, the marksman was sat opposite him.

"It is my eyes that are incapacitated I will have you know Aramis, not my vocal cords."

Porthos let out a loud guffaw promting the others to chuckle.

d'Artagnan slapped Aramis on the back, the Gascon trying to stifle his own mirth.

Aramis refilled Athos' tankard and grinned.

"You are still my patient my friend."

Athos shot a glance at Tréville.

"If there was a champion for mother hen, he would win hands down." he dead- panned.

"Why thank you mon ami." exaggerated Aramis stifling a chuckle.

The laughter erupted once again around the table, the impassive look on Athos features making the whole conversation akin to a burlesque parody.

Porthos squeezed Athos shoulder as he sniggered.

"Aramis is merely looking out for you 'thos, as are we, you are still recoverin' he grinned.

Athos swigged back the rest of his ale, he glanced around the table.

"Well my recovery needs wine, I shall indeed request a three bottles." he said scanning the room for the serving wench.

Three bottles of wine arrived, the serving wench placing them down one by one.

"You are most kind mon amour...what is your name." asked Aramis with a winsome smile.

The girl giggled aloud.

"It be Emile monsieur...we don't get many musketeers in 'ear."

Aramis grinned.

"And now five turn up all at once." chuckled the marksman.

Athos shook his head as he filled his goblet and rolled his ailing eyes.

"I did wonder how long it would take him." he mumbled under his breath.

Porthos and d'Artagnan swapped glances of merriment.

"You are all very 'andsome...I must say." beamed Emile.

Aramis put a hand on his heart and smiled warmly.

"As you can probably perceive mon amour...I am the most handsome."

The girl chucked out loud prompting the others to shake their heads at their friends antics.

oooo

**Rome:**

**Colosseum Dungeons.**

Loud cries of agonising anguish emitted into the darkness followed by the rasping of chains as they were dragged along the dirt ridden ground. Foul smelling passageways vanished into the darkness as more groans of mercy reverberated around the dank stone walls and collumns.

Durand sat against the cold wall hugging his knees, his head bent forward, the man overcome by the utter humiliation he had endured in the presence of the French king and his dignitaries including the Popes most trusted advisor. A solitary candle flickered at his side almost burnt down to the wick.

_How long do I have to tarry in wait for my execution, perhaps his holiness will show mercy. If I am to meet my God, I will haunt Tréville and his oafs forever._

Durand lifted his head as he stared into the gloom, several rats scurried along the filthy ground making their way through the barred gates and into the dismal passageway.

Another scream emitted into the darkness from another chamber, sniggers and snorts from the poor soles abusers as they took great satisfactory in inflicting such torture.

Durand squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his head back against the wall, he wanted to vomit, the stench was putrid of decaying flesh and rotten scraps of food.

_I implore you Lord, have mercy on my sole, please give me forgivness for my crime, I became insane. _

oooo

Aramis poured out more wine and passed the bottle to Porthos. The marksman held up his goblet and glanced around the table at his friends.

"I believe his Majesty derserves acclaim for his part in Durand's mortification my friends, his evil deeds are over." he said with feeling.

The others followed suit holding up their own drinking vessels.

"What will happen to the Englishmen captain? asked d'Artagnan.

Tréville swigged from his goblet and sighed.

"They have been granted passage back to England, there they will stand trail for treason, I am afraid they have sealed their own fate gentlemen."

"Well I will show no solace, they deserve everythin' comin' to them." growled Porthos.

Aramis nodded in ackowledgement and glanced across to Athos.

The swordsman was pouring more wine into his goblet.

"Especially after what they put our dear friend here through."

Athos looked up at his friends, he could make out their shapes, sometimes in certain light he was certain he could see clearer.

"And for that I am grateful to you all my friends, I shall not forget it." he murmered.

oooo

The musketeers sauntered down the street in the darkness on their way back to the garrison. The night air was chilly, a slight wind blew through from adjoining streets. Drunks and whores staggered from taverns and brothels as they went on their way. Athos being steered by his friends if needs be.

"He walks better drunk than sober." laughed Porthos.

Athos paused in his tracks.

"I will have you know that I am not drunk mon ami." he declaimed.

"I believe we are all slightly inebriated gentlemen." murmered d'Artagnan moving aside to allow two drunken men to stagger past him.

That instant six red guard emerged from around the corner, each one pausing as the musketeers approached.

Tréville shot a glance at his men.

"Keep walking men." he mumbled quietly.

The guards stood rigid.

"Well what have we here, the musketeers, they had the Cardinal exiled from France."

Porthos glared with clenched teeth as he glanced at the others.

"I think you will find, we had no word in his downfall, he had a fair trail." commented Aramis.

"We want no trouble gentlemen." growled Tréville, his hand feeling for the hilt of his sword.

The taller guard grinned.

"Just a word in passing captain Tréville...nothing more." he grinned.

Athos sniggered.

"Something amuses you musketeer? asked another as he stared at the swordman.

"He deserves everything coming to him, he brought this disgrace on himself, probably aided by you dolts." growled Athos.

d'Aartagnan and Aramis swapped glances.

"Athos." murmered Aramis nudging his friends arm. "Leave it."

"What did you say musketeer?

"Deaf aswell as an idiot." sniggered Athos.

"Why you...

Suddenly the guard lunged forward and punched the swordsman in the face throwing him to the ground.

That moment pistol fire emitted into the night air as Captain Venell walked up behind his men.

"Get back to the palace NOW! before I lose my temper." he yelled loudly.

The red guard dispersed and did as they were ordered, the musketeers receiving enraged glances from them as they went.

Venell nodded in acknowledgement at Tréville.

Aramis and Porthos rushed to Athos helping him to his feet, bloos oozed from above his eye.

"Athos my friend, you should have kept quiet, you riled them." scolded Aramis pressing his hankerchief to his friends cut.

Athos pulled free from his freind and put his hands over his face, he rubbed his eyes and scanned his surrounding.

He looked up to the moon lit sky then back to his friends, he suddenly grinned and sniggered.

The others exchanging perplexed glances at their friends behaviour.

"Athos...what is it...what's wrong? growled Tréville.

Athos turned to them, looking from one to the other.

"I can see you all, I can see, I see the moon, I see the houses...I can see." he grinned. "I see everything."

ooooOOoooo

**TBC...**

**Hi Everyone,**

**Hope you are all safe and well, cannot believe we may be going into another lockdown, wish people would heed the warnings. **

**Anyway stay well guys.**

**Thank you for your lovely comments, they are awesome.**

**Story is coming to an end, but another is on the horizon.**

**Speak soon**

**Pippa xxx**

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	36. Chapter 36

**TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE.**

**Chapter Thirty Six.**

Doctor Lemay almost scurried across the garrison courtyard towards the musketeers living chambers. It was early morning, a chill in the air as the winter sun started to climb emitting no warmth whatsoever. Aramis appeared in the doorway, a smile greeted Lemay as he approached.

"I bid you good morning Aramis." said Lemay sounding gleeful. "Tell me is Athos still able to see?

Aramis had turned as Lemay followed him into the building.

"He is quite able indeed doctor, it all happened yester night." replied the marksman as he led the medic towards Athos' chamber. Exhilaration evident in the musketeers voice.

"I am pleased to heed such news, this is good." grinned Lemay.

Porthos and d'Artagnan were sitting with Athos at the table playing cards as Aramis and Lemay entered.

A loud guffaw emitted into the air as Porthos grasped the cards from the table top and began to shuffle the pack.

"I win! he growled between chuckles.

"I do not think so you cheat." added Athos suddenly grabbing the big musketeers wrist and finding the ace card up his sleeve.

d'Artagnan shook his head in both iritation and mirth as he realised the swordsman was correct with his declaration.

Athos stared at Porthos with raised brows as he picked up the card and held it up between two fingers.

"You are forgetting mon ami, my sight has returned, cheating is futile."

Porthos began to laugh as Aramis and Lemay joined the group.

"I was just checkin'...I thought he was jestin' when he said he could see."

"Of course you did my friend." grinned Aramis patting the big man on the shoulder knowingly.

Athos grinned slightly as he glanced up at Lemay.

"It would seem I am able to see you doctor."

Lemay put down his medical bag and smiled.

"This I have heard Athos, splended news, but I must examine your eyes."

Aramis nodded towards the swordsman as he stood.

"Tell me Athos, did your vision come back suddenly? asked Lemay opening up his bag and delving inside.

The musketeers swapped grinning glances as they turned to Athos.

"It would seem a red guard restored my eye sight doctor, something I thought I would never ever have to declare."

Lemay stared almost perplexed at the swordsman as he approached him. The others chuckling between themselves.

"Forgive me Athos, I am at a loss at what you speak of." muttered the confused medic.

Aramis couldn't help but interject as he watched Lemay's bewildered features.

"What my dear friend here means is, we had a fracas with a couple of red guard yester night, one of them punched him in the face...hence he could suddenly see."

Lemay listened with intrigue as Aramis recounted the previous nights events. He took out his lens and peered into the swordmans eyes one at a time.

"Ah now I know what may have caused you such loss of vision Athos, I do believe the strike to your face may have dislodged some kind of sediment from the cornea."

Porthos exchanged grins with Aramis and d'Artagnan as the three men watched Lemay examine their friends eyes.

"Well who would have thought it." commented d'Artagnan with raised brows. "A red guard healing a musketeer."

Loud laughter emitted into the chamber as the Gascon jested.

"I aint tellin' em, we wont 'ear the bloody last." growled Porthos.

"Do you think it maybe have been caused by something from the blast doctor? asked Aramis suddenly.

Lemay turned to the marksman and nodded.

"That is possible Aramis, the eyes are very complex organs gentlemen, but we continue to aquire knowledge every day, like I have stated, deposits may have shielded the vision." replied the medic turning back to Athos.

"I still want you to rinse your eyes every day Athos, no sparring for a few days at least, we must remain cautious." added Lemay.

"Do not fret doctor I shall make certain he does." said Aramis patting his friend on the shoulder.

Athos rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Mother hen is assiduous once more it would seem." smirked the swordsman glancing at Aramis.

Aramis nodded.

"If I was not here for you my friend, you would be sparring every day, well that is off your duty list for now."

"Aramis is right Athos, we still need to be certain you are well enough." added Lemay.

"I will hide his sword doctor." smirked d'Artagnan nudging into Athos' shoulder playfully.

Athos stared pan-faced at the Gascon prompting the young man to chuckle.

"Seems your out numbered 'thos." laughed Porthos.

The swordsman snorted with a slight wince.

That moment the door suddenly opened, Captain Tréville entered, he took a parchment from his doublet pocket as he approached his men.

Aramis eyed his superior officer carefully, he knew something was in the parchment, he had come to knew his facial expressions over the years.

"Ah doctor Lemay, how is the patient faring? growled Tréville.

Lemay smiled.

"Your musketeer is most satisfactory captain, he has been indeed a very lucky boy."

Tréville nodded as he passed a glance at Athos, the swordsman smirked at the older man.

"I am indeed most pleased to heed such news."

Tréville held up the parchment.

"News from Rome gentlemen...Durand will be executed at dawn on the morow. The two Englishmen have been hanged at Dover Castle."

The room became a silent aura as the musketeers absorbed the news, doctor Lemay slowly closing his medical bag as he too heeded Tréville's words.

"Best news I've 'eard in a long time if you ask me." growled Porthos swapping glances with his brethren.

"They reaped what they sowed Captain, they merited their own demise." commented d'Artagnan. "It could not have gone on."

Tréville nodded in ackowledgement knowing his men were right, he nearly lost Athos because of it, it was bad enough when they all thought the swordsman was dead.

"What of the other two dolts, what happens to them? asked Aramis.

Tréville eyed his men.

"They will endure the kings wrath on the morrow, I expect them to be hanged the same day."

"We shall attend gentlemen." interjected Athos. "At least now I am able to witness such occurrence."

"Then you shall have your wish my friend." added Aramis patting the swordmans shoulder.

ooooOOoooo

**TBC**

**Hi Guys,**

**Hope you are all keeping safe and well.**

**Just want to say thank you for your comments, the next chapter will be the last, I have enjoyed the ride, I hope you all have too. A new story is in the pipeline though so no worries there. We will keep our Musketeers going.**

**Speak soon**

**Pippa xxx**

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